


Ari's Boys

by Slegend



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Anal Sex, Corporal Punishment, Dom/sub Undertones, Domestic Discipline, Father-Son Relationship, M/M, Possessive Behavior, Possessive Sex, Rough Sex, Sexual Tension, Spanking, controlling relationship
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-08-19
Updated: 2014-10-09
Packaged: 2018-02-13 18:58:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 19
Words: 55,171
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2161539
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Slegend/pseuds/Slegend
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A dark tale of unusual relationships and one man's struggle to make sense of the one thing that never makes sense: Love. Meanwhile, Harry finds a family on the other side of the war and the Dark Lord has to manipulate and scheme to keep that family together. Harry and Evan Rosier will have a Father and Son relationship only. All of the dark possession and violent sex is between Evan and the Dark Lord.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is a creepy little fic, I still cannot believe came out of my head. There still isn't one super crazy sex scene, but plenty of implied possessive sex. Under the all of it, is every character's strange view on love.

“Is that him?”  
Evan scowled. “Who else would it be?”  
“But he is…”  
“Mine.” 

AB

“So…you’re Harry Potter?”  
Harry didn’t see his father anywhere; he knew he should wait before speaking to anyone, but the blonde boy intrigued him. “I am. My father prefers I go by Harry Rosier, but even he calls me Potter sometimes.”   
The blonde stared at him a moment, a mixture of awe and fascination, fear and apprehension all in one. Then he spoke. “You—you could sit up here on the sofa, it must be cold on the floor.”  
That he would not do. Terror shined in his malachite eyes when he shook his head, his black hair swinging wildly.   
“Right. I suppose I could come down there with you.”   
“Don’t. My father won’t like you too close to me.”   
“He wouldn’t? Why not?” The boy looked offended.   
“Because I’m his.”   
The boy nodded his understanding.   
“What’s your name?” Harry asked.   
“Draco—Draco, Malfoy.”   
“Pleased to meet you Draco—Draco Malfoy,” Harry giggled at his own joke.   
“What’s going on in here?” His father’s voice was cool and dangerous as it floated into the room. Harry looked up to meet his father’s black-violet depths. “I was talking to, Draco,” he admitted. It would be worse if he lied.   
“I see.” His hands slipped into his pockets and his body relaxed, eyes focused on his son.   
Draco sat on edge, terrified, feeling the building electricity in the room even if everything looked calm—nothing extraordinary. He immediately liked Harry Potter, or Harry Rosier—he didn’t care which he was called quite frankly—and didn’t want anything bad to happen to him; but he knew it was a likely realization that it could and perhaps it might happen before his very eyes. Draco’s own Father was strict with him and at times cruel—it was the way of wealthy, Pureblood families, but Evan Rosier was rumored to be some other kind of force; unpredictable, pernicious—crazy.   
Evan reached out to take the chin of his son between his thumb and pointer finger. He looked down at him with eyes filled with love, like Harry was the most precious thing to him in the world. For a moment, Draco thought that maybe his reputation had preceded him. Harry didn’t seem to mind the physical intrusion, actually, Draco would say the boy relished in the man’s touch—craved it. Not in a sexual way. There was no sexual chemistry between the two and for that Draco was relieved on many levels. No, Harry was not seeking sexual comfort from his touch; he sought his father’s love. 

The sudden sharp movement surprised everyone in the room (except perhaps Harry—who knew it could go either way), including Lucius Malfoy who had entered the room just behind Evan and watched the scene with utter enchantment, licking his lips at the smell of the violence he detected.   
With savage velocity, Evan’s hand made contact with his son’s cheek. Harry whimpered and both Lucius and Draco could see the water in his eyes as his lips trembled.   
“You know what that was for.”   
“Y—yes. I—I’m sorry, Father.”   
Draco looked over at his own father, whose eyes were gleaming with a jealousy that seemed to make his mouth water, like he could taste something in the air he wanted.   
Harry eyes remained on his father looking for all the world like he wanted nothing more than to return to his father’s good graces. Not only because of the promise of more brutality (which Draco had no doubt his father would provide him with) but Harry looked to be distraught with being out of favor with his father. His beloved father. How strange…  
It got stranger still.   
Evan cupped his son’s face, now sporting a glowing red hand print that looked like it would bruise, and looked at him with worship in his eyes. “You are forgiven a chroì. Up.” Evan gathered his son into his arms with more care than his own Father had ever given him –not that his father didn’t give him care—and it was Draco’s turn to be jealous.   
The entire scene was a treat in so many ways, even with the violence. What would happen next?  
Evan stroked Harry’s hair and looked to Lucius. “We will retire early, Lucius. Have a light meal sent up to our rooms. Send a message to our Lord that we have arrived safe.”   
Lucius thought it odd that Evan wouldn’t send the message himself. He was under the impression that he and the Dark Lord were… close. No matter, he wasn’t about to question Evan’s motives. “Certainly. It shall be as you have requested.” 

ER

Evan is a man best described by what he is not. For instance, he possesses infinite patience, but it is his lack of tolerance that defines him. He can tender many things, waiting till he hits upon something he finds reprehensible. This makes him like a tight cord, wound and ready to be released on whatever poor, unsuspecting victim that should happen to cross his path in that moment and displease his own sense of morals. To say he is cruel (and he is) would leave the imagination to fill in a sneer on his face and kink in his brown and perhaps darken his hair in the minds of the reader until it is the blackest of blacks. But this is not so. Evan Rosier does not have a sneer on his lips, or a kink in his brow; his face is bright and beautiful with cool, calm features that might be mistaken for indifference, but Evan Rosier was never indifferent. The man had an opinion on everything even if he only cared about one thing (or maybe, possibly two), but even in the not-caring that could tell us how much he cared about not caring and thus did care—if that should make any sense.   
In summation, he was defined by what he was not: The man lacked tolerance, he lacked cruel features on his face, he lacked the ability to be indifferent and the man did not care about anyone, or anything for that matter, so it should come as formidable significance that he did care for, with utter certainty and voracious tenacity the boy before him.   
This fact drove him mad. Couldn’t stand it. Wouldn’t want it any other way.  
He didn’t want to love anyone and he did not except for Harry. But when you had something you treasured above all, there is only one thing you can do with that item: Covet it. Evan Rosier very much considered Harry his possession and Harry understood this to be true. The thought of anyone, or anything taking Harry from him made him crazy beyond reason. It grew to proportions that were beyond control of anyone, especially himself. He surrounded Harry with rules that would preserve him forever and ensure that no one could take Harry from him—not even Harry. He worried about that one thing (someone taking Harry) every minute of everyday. If one were to tell him such nonsense as ‘if you really love someone, you let them go’, he would scoff at you before he killed you. He really would, not because he was afraid that it was true, for he firmly believed if you love someone, you never let go; but because he would think you were saying that as a ploy to take his treasure from him.   
Of course Harry didn’t know any of this—not in the way we now know it. And I don’t quite know that I want to explain it all in one bite, so I will just say this: Harry knew Evan as his saviour, and now as his father, and that was enough to forever devote him to the man for better or for worse.  
Evan guided Harry to the bed. He was far to big to be picked up now and Evan wished there had been a way to preserve Harry as his little boy forever, but it was not the case and Harry had reached his majority this past summer: That didn’t matter to Evan, the rules must still apply.   
He began removing Harry’s socks and shoes. “Do you like Draco a chroì?” A chroì for ‘my heart’ because Harry was his heart. He didn’t have one inside of him; it lived and breathed on the outside of him; as Harry.  
Harry was afraid to answer. He did not want to hurt his father, but he knew he was always supposed to be honest with his father and like all truths this one would hurt him. “I like him father. May we be friends?” Harry did not have any friends; Evan had never allowed it.   
It always tore Evan up when Harry asked for something he could not give. He wanted to give his child everything and it was hard when the outside world interfered with the carefully constructed bubble he’d created around their lives.   
Evan’s eyes narrowed in a way that made his child cringe. The handprint on his cheek looked nasty, Evan didn’t even want to look at it anymore, hadn’t Harry learned anything? He didn’t answer right away and continued until Harry’s socks and shoes were removed, he stood the seventeen year old up like one would a child, removed the rest of his clothing and dressed him in a set of cotton pyjamas.   
He lead him to the en suite bathroom, pulled the pyjama bottoms down and sat Harry on the toilet as he busied himself getting Harry’s toothbrush ready. The boy came to him when he was finished and Evan brushed his teeth all the while Harry staring at him with scared eyes. Evan hated that look. Well no, he didn’t. He loved that look, and only hated seeing it in Harry’s eyes. “Father isn’t angry at you child. Climb into bed and we’ll talk about it.”   
The fast smile came easy to Harry’s lips and he clambered to their bed.   
I think it imperative to mention; their sharing of a bed lacked every bit of sexuality, as did their relationship. It had everything to do with Evan’s inability to allow Harry out of his sight, even for the night. It made it difficult to spend the night with lovers, but Evan didn’t care. If one could not accept Harry in their bed cuddling between them after the night of fucking was over, then Evan could not accept that lover. And Evan did not love, so it made little difference to him. The man could leave; Harry would always stay.   
There were also Harry’s frequent nightmares to think about and Evan would not allow his son to suffer them alone for anyone. He wanted to make certain he was immediately accessible for his son should he wake up screaming as he so often did.   
The light meal was there when they came back: Mugs of bone broth and fresh bread with butter. He handed Harry a mug and changed into his pyjamas as he spoke to Harry with Harry captivated by whatever his father would say to him.   
“New people are interesting, I know, and you are a curious boy, but we must be careful of new people my child. I think it best we reserve friendship for those we know we can trust. For now though, I think it would be alright you speak with him, you now have my permission,” he told Harry pointedly, revisiting his earlier indiscretion.  
Harry smiled as he nodded agreement and Evan was satisfied that only he could bring that kind of smile to the child’s face. When Evan was changed into his pyjamas, he crawled into bed beside Harry. They finished their light meal and Evan put out the lights with a wave of his hand.   
Harry snuggled into him. “Father will you sing me to sleep?”  
“Of course a chroì.” And he did, stroking Harry’s hair and letting the satisfaction of the moment wash over him. Harry would always be his first and no one could take that from him.


	2. Chapter 2

They sat at the table this time and Harry would have been scared if he were alone, but he never was; his father sat right beside him. He looked up at his father like he was the whole world (and he was as far as Harry was concerned) and smiled to himself, content. He and his father were trying new things as his father had explained to him a few nights before this adventure began. It would be hard for both of them, but it was something they had to do. When Harry had asked why it was something they had to do Evan said, “I don’t know, only that we must.” That was good enough for Harry. Harry didn’t care that much as long as his father would be with him, his question was born out of curiosity only. His father often said sometimes it was best to let curious thoughts lie. He did that now.  
Draco noticed the way Harry looked at his father. Draco loved and admired his father too, more than most he thought, until he had met this boy: Harry Potter or Rosier—whatever it was. There was something more to the way Harry looked at his father—it wasn’t as a lover looked unto his lover, so that was out—it was like Evan was Harry’s whole world and it made Draco shudder a bit, yet it did not kill the fascination.  
Lucius on the other hand stirred with jealousy again. Not because he wanted his own son to look at him that way—he wanted Harry to look at him that way. He would never act on this insane impulse of course, he knew Evan’s powers; he would be dead after long months of torture. Instead he would enjoy watching the pair of them for however long he would have the pleasure.  
Evan piled food onto a plate and set it before Harry and Harry did not touch a thing until he saw his father eating.  
Draco felt compelled to solidarity with the boy across the table from him and did the same. Lucius noted the action.  
“You contacted our Lord last night?” Evan’s smooth voice asked, behind it, always the threat of a snake ready to bite you should you displease him.  
“I did.” The return message was quite intriguing, and one he knew could anger the man, but he had to tell him. Still better take care in telling him. “Do you want to know his response?”  
Evan froze almost imperceptibly for a moment then nodded. “Let’s have it.”  
“He says you have three days then you are to come home. If you do not, he will retrieve you himself.”  
This made Evan’s temper begin to simmer, but he was able to cool it in time so he would not frighten his son. “Thank-you Lucius.”  
He said no more, but he looked to Harry and Lucius knew they had a private understanding about something. It was also a look of acquiescence; it was after that Harry began speaking.  
“Do you like Quidditch, Draco?”  
The boys engaged in a conversation typical of their age and Lucius’s eyes assessed Harry once more. Something itched at his brain, something was missing and Lucius needed to know what—he felt he should know what.  
Then it dawned on him. The place on Harry’s face where there should be a mark was clear and vibrant instead of marred with the dark bruising he had expected. Evan had healed his face and Evan had permitted this interaction Harry now had with Draco. In what other ways did Evan control the infamous Harry Potter? To what ends? By what means?

AB

“What is the meaning of this restriction, my Lord?” Evan spoke through the floo, breaking his oath that he would not speak to the Dark Lord until he was ready.  
“Restriction? I am being quite generous. You were not supposed to leave in the first place.”  
Evan wanted to tell him he was not at liberty to tell him what to do; however, he was his Lord by choice and therefore could tell him what to do. It was the other part of their relationship that confused this boundary.  
“I require more than three days, my Lord,” Evan said simply. He would not ask, or beg—yet.  
“I could simply order you home now. I am not pleased you left without my permission.”  
So that was how it would be? He could accept three days, or no days.  
“I let you know both where I was and that we were safe. What game is this you play?”  
“No game. How is Harry? He must be terrified. You’ve taken him from his home too. Does he…does he miss me?”  
“He has not mentioned you my Lord,” Evan struck out hurtfully. He knew that just because Harry had not mentioned their Lord, it did not mean he did not miss him. Harry would not admit to anything unless asked.  
He saw the face in the fire crumble, then renew with fevor. “Three days then I expect the both of you home.”  
“Harry will be disappointed.”  
That stopped the Dark Lord from ending the conversation. “Disappointed?”  
“He has made a friend.”  
“You allowed that?” he said disbelievingly.  
“I permitted their conversation, the friendship happened—just this morning. I have no control over it’s forming, only over it ending. I have not decided to end it yet.”  
The Dark Lord wanted to beseech Evan to allow Harry to keep his new friend, but he knew Evan was angry with him for what he felt was a restriction and he would end the friendship to spite him. Harry would be disappointed, but Evan had a way of making Harry forget everything but Evan. He knew this was Evan’s way of manipulating him and it was working.  
“How many days do you wish for my Evan?” We think we are free and we think we have power, but everyone belongs to someone.  
The term of possession made Evan cringe, but again he could not argue with it for it was true as much as he would deny it to the Dark Lord. “I will notify you when I have finished.”  
“You will set a term, or I will come get you now.”  
“Three months.”  
“Three months! Absolutely not.”  
“What is acceptable by you then, my Lord?” Evan practically spat at the Dark Lord.  
“I will give you three weeks and in that time I will visit at times of my choosing. Otherwise you will return at the end of the original three days.”  
“I agree to the terms.” Evan still would not beg. The new terms were better than the old; he would take them, for now, and work on getting more time later.  
He turned to his child after the floo connection closed and asked him, “Do you miss him, Harry?”  
With wide, unapologetic eyes the child said, “Yes”.  
Harry sat on the bed afraid of the repercussions, but Evan had made a secret promise, Harry had nothing to fear.  
Evan went over to the bed, sat down and pulled Harry into his lap. He stroked his hair, and placed kisses on his crown. “I think—I think I miss him too, but I don’t know why. Do you know why you miss him?”  
No longer afraid, Harry relaxed. “It’s hard to put words to Father. The best I can explain it is this: We spent a lot of time together and I grew accustomed to his presence. I began to enjoy our time and when he is not here I wish we could have more times like we had.”  
Evan nodded. “And what if I were to go away, Harry?”  
Harry clung to his father as if he was talking about going away now and he was the only thing that stood between his father leaving. “That’s… That’s too terrible to contemplate—please Father, I may miss Pharaoh, but you I cannot live without.”  
The answer satisfied Evan greatly. “Never fear of that a chroì. No one will have you—not completely anyway.”  
But Harry knew there was something he was not saying and that it wasn’t quite the promise he was looking for. “Are you… are you going away, Father?”  
“Me? Never. I will never be far behind where you are concerned, but perhaps it will be you who is going away from me.”  
“Why would you say such things?” Harry rarely showed his anger, but he showed it now. Harry’s anger did not bother Evan unless it was disobedient anger. This anger was born out of true commitment. It made that empty, black, place in his chest smile. “Because they are true and because they are unstoppable.”  
“I’ll never leave you.”  
“Not leave me—no, I wouldn’t allow that. But we will be further apart.” He placed a kiss on Harry’s forehead as if to seal the ambiguously made pact between them.  
Harry began to cry.  
“Don’t cry,” Evan said gently. “I’m not going to let anything happen to you. You’ll see.”  
But Harry sobbed more, clinging tight to his father’s lapels. “I’m sorry, my child. I wish I could control everything and everyone, but there are some things that are out of even my control.”  
“Is it because I made friends with, Draco?”  
They did not deny the truth between each other even if they wanted to. “Yes.”  
“I won’t be friends with him anymore.”  
“I want you to be friends with him, Harry.”  
“But, you punished me for it.”  
“You said you knew what that was for. You know it wasn’t that. Tell me, why did I punish you, Baby?”  
“You had not yet given me permission to speak to the Malfoy boy.”  
“Yes. Do not confuse that with this: You are to be friends with him.”  
“But what if I don’t want to be?”  
“That is irrelevant. You do. Besides, I say it is to be so; you must always listen to Father, baby.”  
Harry nodded.  
“I will tell you when and if you should end it. Then we will go home.”  
Harry nodded again, his tears dissipated. After some time, Harry asked, “When will Pharaoh visit us?”  
“You heard him, child. At a time of his choosing.”  
“Yes, but you know everything, Father. I bet you know when that will be.”  
Evan smiled. “Not everything, Child. But yes, I know when your Pharaoh will visit. Three days.”  
“Why three days?”  
“Because that is the longest he can go without us.”


	3. Chapter 3

Harry found comfort in his father watching them from a distance while he flew across the grounds with the other boy. He sensed the other boy wanted something from him, but whatever it was, Harry wasn’t ready to give it.  
“You’re a good flyer, Harry.” Draco smiled at him and Harry recognized the smile: Admiration. Draco admired him; Draco liked Harry.  
“My father taught me,” Harry responded feeling the need to remind Draco that he belonged to someone already and while his father was allowing this friendship to continue, for a small time at least, he wanted to Draco to know that to accept Harry was to accept Evan. Most people could not accept the Death Eater who was considered psychotic even for a Death Eater.  
Draco new immediately what Harry was doing and he would not do anything to scare the boy away. He made a decision last night while lying in bed unable to think about anything except for Harry: he would have Harry in any way his father allowed and if that meant he came second best, well he wouldn’t like it (Malfoy’s only fought for first place), but he would settle for it. It was a matter of what he could live with and what he couldn’t live without. He could live with second place in this case; he couldn’t live without Harry.  
Draco had to answer carefully. “Your father is a man to be admired then; I’ve never seen flying like yours before.”  
Harry smiled.  
Below, Evan saw Harry’s smile and was beside himself. It was the smile Harry gave only to him, or had only ever given him until now. He wanted to skin the Malfoy boy alive. “Harry. Time to come down,” he ordered a whole lot more calm, and cool than he felt.  
Harry rushed to his father’s side without the slightest hesitation; then it was Evan’s turn to smile.  
Later the two boys sat playing chess together. Draco had not been ruffled by Evan’s earlier actions—they were to be expected—the unexpected were Harry’s. Harry seemed to want the relationship developing between them, but not even he knew it yet. Draco had not been this close to him yet and he wondered why Harry’s father permitted the closeness now. It’s true they weren’t touching, but he could slide his foot over and touch his shoe with Harry’s. It would be the most forbidden thing Draco could ever do—it was well known that nobody touched Harry without Evan Rosier’s permission and only one other had ever been given the permission to touch Harry—the Dark Lord himself.  
Draco could not hope for that—yet—but perhaps in time. Draco stared at Harry instead of thinking of his next move, distracted by the beautiful boy’s malachite eyes and plush lips—lips that the boy licked as he stared back at Draco equally fascinated, but not knowing why.  
“That’s enough, Harry. Come sit by me,” Evan’s voice drifted over to him; an order clear, but said gentle as a summer breeze. Harry never hesitated for Evan’s orders and was gone and by his side where his father pulled him into his lap and began carding his fingers through his hair as he continued his conversation with Draco’s father. 

Draco knew better than to join them. Evan wanted to create distance between the pair. He had given greatly by allowing more time and closeness for the pair and it was all Evan could handle for the moment—like he was conditioning himself for longer periods of distance between him and his heart (Draco had looked up ‘a chroì’ and found that’s what it meant). Draco stood and Evan watched him with snake-like eyes that said ‘this is my pretty little snake. You might have him one day, but not today, and only when I am ready, if I am ever ready’.  
Draco gave a respectful bow and left the room creating as much distance as he could between Harry and him.  
Three days after the arrival of Evan and Harry the Dark Lord came storming through Malfoy Manor. He did not floo in, he apparated to the grounds and flurried inside without knocking.  
The man burst into Evan and Harry’s room to a familiar scene: Evan cuddled up with Harry, Harry enjoying having his hair pet soaking up his father’s love content as a lamb before slaughter.  
Evan sat up abruptly knocking Harry out of his utopia; he latched onto Evan as Evan braved the Dark Lord’s wraith.  
In the time the Dark Lord had been gathering his power, during his rebirth, he had taken on a snake-like appearance. Buy the outer resemblance to the snake inside him was no more—Tom Marvolo Riddle once again had the features of a man, with the jaw bone of Vikings and the beauty of all the Greek Gods in one—but there was no doubt of this: He was no longer human—if he ever was. No one could say with certainty what he was, but they could be certain of what he wasn’t. The return of his powers made him larger than any man alive with magical strength and abilities that would make Merlin jealous. His hair was black as you would imagine it, then darken that a couple of shades. It fell to his shoulders and swept back from his face not covering a single detail of his hard, fierce, beautiful face.  
The magical energy crackled all around him as his red eyes (the only thing left over from his rebirth) set sights on his prey: Evan Rosier. “Tell Harry he must leave.”  
The Dark Lord knew Harry would only obey Evan and Evan knew better than to disobey the Dark Lord. “Go to the front room of our chambers, Baby. Close the door behind you.”  
Harry did so, but reluctantly; he would never tell Evan ‘no’, but he knew that look in his Pharaoh’s eyes: His father would be punished.  
When Harry was gone the Dark Lord spoke again. “I will be punishing you, Darlin’ and you will scream. Send Harry further away unless you want him to hear you,” he smirked.  
Evan’s hands balled into fists, but he obeyed. He did not want to be punished, but he wanted Harry to hear him receive punishment even less. He knew it would terrify his son and it was the only reason he did what he did now. He opened the door to the bedroom and spoke softly to Harry trying not to give away his own terror, and make his next words seem normal. “Go visit with Draco, love.”  
Harry ran to him and circled his arms about his waist. “Is everything okay, Father?”  
Harry knew it wasn’t. Father would never send him to see Draco alone if nothing terrible was going to happen. Harry had to know, so he asked knowing there were no lies between them; his father would answer honestly, or not at all.  
“I must pay for some of my recent indiscretions, love, but I will be okay. I promise.”  
Harry nodded into his chest trying not to cry. “Go now.”  
When Evan entered the room, he shut the door behind him, the Dark Lord stood seething for a moment before he ordered, “Come.”  
Evan went to him and the Dark Lord was slow as he began unbuttoning Evan’s blouse. Of course, he had the power to merely banish Evan’s clothing, but what fun would that be? No. He would rather take his time and increase Evan’s dread. It would also serve to put Evan in his place: As the Dark Lord’s possession. Evan would not like to be disrobed this way and he would doubly hate knowing he could do nothing but stand there and accept what his Lord would do to him.  
“You have displeased me greatly, my Evan.”  
“I know, my Lord.”  
“Why do you insist on such formal titles? I’ve asked you many times to call me by my preferred address,” he said frustrated, yanking the shirt off Evan’s body harshly to reveal the creamy, lush skin beneath.  
“Isn’t it enough that I do insist?” Evan spat, resigned to his punishment, but never cooling his irascible personality. He wanted to keep distance between them.  
The Dark Lord moved onto his pants next, removing Evan’s belt in one swift movement, unbuttoning his trousers and peeling them away together, releasing his large, hardened cock to the crisp air. “You look forward to this?” The Dark Lord asked smiling, happy with this development.  
“I do not look forward to being beaten,” Evan insisted as the Dark Lord looked between his eyes and his cock with an arched brow that sent the silent question ‘are you sure?’  
“He’s already looking forward to afterward when you’ll…”  
“Fuck you into oblivion? Claim you? Mark you?”  
“Just the first. I don’t want to be claimed or marked by you; I don’t want to be yours, or anyone’s.”  
He slapped Evan for his disrespectful words with every bit of force as Evan did quite frequently to Harry—only multiply the force by ten—he could feel the blood dribbling down his chin, he reached his tongue out to lick it up. This fueled the Dark Lord’s lust—his increased powers made him crave blood, and his lust reached unknown proportions at the very sight of it. He latched onto Evan’s mouth with his and sucked both Evan’s tongue and blood into his. Once he’d finished sucking the life out of Evan he released him—both panting—to glare at his disobedient lover.  
“You are mine. Don’t forget it—I am here to remind you and I will continue to remind you until it sinks into that thick skull of yours, Darlin’.” The Dark Lord had a strange anachronistic accent, like he was from another time. Evan was one of few to suspect this, but he did not have enough information to be sure. Harry agreed with him.  
“I don’t belong to you.” He didn’t care if the Dark Lord hit him again and of course he did—Evan would be bruised later. 

“But you want me to fuck you?”  
“Yes. You are an excellent lover, best one I’ve had—nothing more.”  
“Fine. If that’s how it is to be for now then that’s how it will be, but you will accept my terms and you will give me what I want, when I want.”  
Evan nodded. There was only one thing he was truly afraid of when it came to the Dark Lord as only the Dark Lord had the power to take this from him; it was the only thing he would beg for. “Just please… Let me keep Harry.” His voice sounded broken, even to him.  
“I want one more promise for such a prize.”  
The Dark Lord had but to ask and he would give it.  
“There is to be no one else. No other lovers for you, but me.”  
In essence, the Dark Lord was saying that Evan was to be his without saying the words despite Evan’s refusals in that regard. Bloody Slytherins!  
Evan refused to answer that one.  
“Let me make it plain for you Darlin’, you are mine whether you like it or not. If I find another lover in your bed, I will take Harry from you, but I do promise it would be the only reason I would ever take Harry from you.”  
The Dark Lord made Evan hold onto one of the bedposts, without any bonds to secure him except his own will and proceeded to whip him with his own belt until every inch of skin not melded into the bedpost was a throbbing, seething mass of welts. Some were open and bleeding, some were already showing the signs of bruising, some would leave scars that magic couldn’t erase.  
And Evan did scream.  
He screamed until his voice was hoarse, but not once did he beg for the Dark Lord to stop. Mostly because he knew the Dark Lord wouldn’t, but at the end of it he knew he would come out stronger knowing he could take any beating the Dark Lord could give and survive it without begging.  
Despite all of that, his flaccid cock became hard again once his whipping was over. He wanted the Dark Lord to fuck him, he wanted to cum hard with the beautiful man’s teeth sinking into his skin.  
The Dark Lord delivered. “I’m going to fuck you hard enough, you’ll remember who you belong to for the three days you are without me.”  
“Fuck me, Ari.” Evan would only call the Dark Lord his preferred name—his new name in this life he would say—in these moments. It was the thing giving the Dark Lord hope that one-day Evan would care for him with the same tenacity he cared for his son.  
“Your wish is my command my Prince.”  
And fuck him the Dark Lord did. Every bit of Evan’s body hurt from the vicious whipping he took, but it didn’t matter, he wanted the Dark Lord’s cock in him. The Dark Lord was the only one to ever have the privilege of fucking him—the rest of his lovers, he fucked.  
The Dark Lord, already too riled from his own rage, the blood on Evan’s lips and body and the violence of the beating, couldn’t hold back. He fucked him with wild abandon, he made sure Evan knew it was his cock that belonged inside of him, he made sure he knew he did have a keeper whether he agreed to having one or not. 

It wasn’t till hours had passed and several orgasms for the both of them later that the Dark Lord stopped. Even then, their play had only taken the edge off his lust. Truthfully he could go for days, but days he didn’t have—this time.  
Getting up from the bed he tossed Evan’s clothes at him. “Go get Harry,” he ordered.  
“B-but, m-my Lord. L-look at me. I can’t.” Evan did not tremble in fear; he trembled in pain. His whole body was thrumming with it and he would not be able to hide it from his son. He did not want Harry to see him like this, but he would have no choice in the matter.  
“Yet, you will, and you will seriously consider defying me again.”  
Without honoring the Dark Lord with a response, Evan donned his white blouse, done up and untucked, but he could not manage the crisp black trousers and instead opted for his sleep pants. The Dark Lord would not let him brush his hair or wash his face of the dried tears. It was part of his punishment; Harry hadn’t witnessed the punishment, but he would see the after affects.  
“The next time, I will make Harry watch,” he promised. Evan sent a wild glare his way saying with only his eyes ‘we’ll see about that’ and slammed the door behind him as he went to get his son.  
The Dark Lord lay naked like the King he was on the bed, his arms pillowed behind him and laughed at his unpredictable little Tiger.  
“H-harry?” He croaked as he approached the parlor where he hoped the boys would be. He was greeted by the sight of the two boys on the floor, far too close for his liking—they were practically touching! They didn’t appear to be doing anything other than talking, but Evan knew the Malfoy boy fancied his son. Between the two, he trusted Draco with his son far better than he trusted Lucius. He had seen the jealous gleam in his eyes and while he knew the man feared him, one could never say where impulse might crop up. The man would suffer a slow painful death before Evan killed him, but Harry would keep the scars forever and the boy had enough scars.  
Harry jumped up and ran to his father, but stopped in horror when he saw the condition of him. His eyes filled with tears. Draco remained where he was, but he too looked on with fear.  
“None of that now, Harry. I told you I would be fine and I will be. Come along now. Pharaoh would like to see you—I want you on your best behavior,” he warned knowing that as much as he could be protective of his child, his child could be as protective about him. He put an arm around Harry’s shoulders and led him away.


	4. Chapter 4

“Evan, may I invite Harry to visit on my lap?” He knew he had pushed his lover as far as he would go today; he wouldn’t push him further by touching his most prized possession without permission. He had put his pants back on and sat upon the bed, naked from the waist up, like a King about to receive grapes from his servants.  
“I am going to soak in the tub and clean up. You have until I finish to visit with Harry, and to get out,” Evan hissed then stalked, ridged, toward the en suite clearly in pain, but not about to divulge that to the Dark Lord openly.  
“Come, Harry.”  
Harry climbed into the Dark Lord’s lap apprehensively. Like Evan, he did not fear the Dark Lord, but he didn’t like what the Dark Lord had done to his father. “How come you don’t miss me little one?”  
“I did.”  
“You, did?”  
“Yes.”  
“But you no longer do.”  
“No.”  
“Why?” The Dark Lord said drawn out and impatient.  
“I understand if you must punish Father, but you over did it this time, Pharaoh.”  
The boy was wise beyond his years, the Dark Lord often thought this, he’d been through something—something reprehensible and Evan had saved him from it. This was why the Dark Lord would always listen to what Harry said, but he was still a youngling and he could not always heed his words; sometimes Harry was simply lacking the wisdom only years could provide, but not the voice of it. The Dark Lord did enjoy the naivety of this particular child’s youth and often humored it.  
“How would you know that? I have been a Dark Lord for longer than you have been alive.”  
“You’ve been a Dark Lord for many lifetimes, Pharaoh,” Harry corrected and the Dark Lord wondered at how he knew that. “But it doesn’t mean you can’t learn some new things this time around.”  
“Is that so?” he replied amused.  
Harry nodded, his eyes watering thinking of his father in pain. Pharaoh wiped the tears from his cheeks. “Your father will be alright little one and I think I’ve been around long enough to know what my disobedient Consort needs. He likes to know he can surpass the brutality.”  
“He isn’t your Consort,” Harry said cuddling into Pharaoh’s chest and playing with one of his nipples. “He might let you fuck him, but you don’t own him.”  
“It sounds like someone else needs punishment tonight,” Pharaoh seethed at him tensing his entire body, coiling to strike.  
“You won’t touch me,” Harry makes his voice chilling as Evans’. “Father won’t allow it, but I will tell him of my behavior if you feel my words inappropriate and he can punish me if he wishes.” 

The Dark Lord’s body relaxes and he laughs heartily at the kitten trying to roar like his father. “No need for that kitten. Would you like me to apologize?”  
“Yes, but not to me. You should apologize to Father.”  
They were able to talk about better things and visit a while longer until Evan returned from the en suite, dresses in a red, silk robe looking more refreshed than he had, but still a little stiff. His violet-black eyes darkened when he saw the Dark Lord still there and still with his son. “Harry, come.”  
Harry hopped off the Dark Lord’s lap and the strong man let him go. Harry went to his father’s open arms and buried his head into his neck while carefully sliding his arm around Evan’s waist. Evan nestled his head onto Harry’s and kissed his crown before speaking to the Dark Lord. “You were told to leave.”  
The Dark Lord, being in a generous mood as he is after blood and sex chuckled at his Consort and step-son as they stood, huddled together both glaring at him. “Come here my angry little family, give Papa hugs.”  
The two of them stood stalk still, Harry continued to glare on behalf of his father and Evan turned murderous. “You will not touch either of us again today. Leave. We are not your family and we never will be.”  
The Dark Lord, still not taking offense to any of his Consort’s venom, sat up and smiled wider, “Nonsense. I will have dinner with my family tonight and then I will leave, but seeing as I am offending the two of you with the very sight of me, I will give the two of you some time and visit with Lucius before dinner commences.”  
Evan and Harry did not move, or say anything as the Dark Lord put his shirt on and winked at the two of them before he left; his arrogance too much to be contained by simply leaving.  
“That man is impossible,” Evan said quietly to his son. He then led them to the bed—barely noticing that they both now lay in the very spot the Dark Lord had just vacated—where they cuddled and cried together.  
When they were finished Harry, always sensing a lot more than he let on, asked his father, “Do you care for him?”  
Evan couldn’t lie to his son. If he had nothing else he had that. “I think I might.”  
“Why do you resist him then? It only makes him angry.”  
“It’s hard to fall in love. One might think they can fall in love without the other person owning them, but the truth is they do. For the one you love you do anything—it is a great power to have over someone.”  
“I understand Father,” Harry said with all the worship and love in his eyes to show that indeed he did. “When you are in love with the person, I don’t think it matters though.”  
“True my little voice of wisdom, but answer me this: What if I already love someone more than I’ll ever love anyone else? How could I ever love Ari in the way he loves me?”  
Harry pretended to think about it, but he already knew the answer. “I think—I think it’s okay if someone loves you more than you love them and that’s just the way it has to be sometimes. I’m never going to love anyone more than you father and anyone else I care about will have to accept that.”  
“You are still young child. How can you know that?”  
“I guess you could say I don’t, but right now it is unfathomable.” 

Evan hoped it would always be true because it was the same for him. It was the reason he did not want the Dark Lord to own him—he was afraid that would steal some of the love he had for Harry. The love he had for Harry was pure and beautiful and rich. Of course Evan knew one could always make more love, but if he made more love, he wanted that love to go to Harry. And if he made more still, he wanted to give that to Harry also, without any Dark Lords moving in to take a piece. No matter how much love he would ultimately have, he did not want to share it around. He wanted to always reserve it for Harry.  
Dinner was always at six. Evan and Harry were present at the sixth chime of the clock. Draco was there, quiet and apprehensive to all the things going on around him. The Dark Lord and Lucius were having a hearty discussion over political matters as they often did. Overall, the atmosphere was light until Evan and Harry entered it. About to take their usual seats the Dark Lord stopped them. “Evan, I would prefer you sit by me.” He phrased it like a suggestion, but it was not suggestion.  
The thought of disobeying him crossed his mind, but the Dark Lord got exceptionally angry over public disobedience and he could bear no more punishment tonight and not in front of Harry. Evan moved to his side reluctantly and Harry followed suit taking his place beside his father.  
When that was settled, dinner proceeded at usual. Lucius felt exceptionally honored to have the Dark Lord in his home.  
“And where is the Lady of the house?” The Dark Lord inquired.  
“Paris, with her family. After our victory, she decided to take an extended vacation,” Lucius answered smiling.  
It was no secret to anyone the true status of Lucius and Narcissa’s relationship. It was an arranged marriage out of convenience tying two important bloodlines together. The two loved and respected each other, but were not in love. Not to mention, Lucius liked men just as much as Narcissa did.  
“And Draco,” the Dark Lord turned red eyes to him practically feasting on his fear and fear he should. If this boy wanted anything to do with his stepson, he would be keeping an eye on him. Much as the Dark Lord wanted his stepson to have Draco for a friend, he wanted to protect his son. “You have done well with all your N.E.W.T.S?”  
“Yes, my Lord. Uncle Severus says I would make a formidable Potion’s Master.” The truth of it was, Draco could make a formidable anything. He had more than excelled in school and the extra classes he had been home schooled in. Draco was a strong, competent Wizard. But Severus was one of the Dark Lord’s favorites and Draco knew he would score points if he mentioned Severus’s pride in him.  
The Dark Lord gave him a beatific smile. “Of course.” The next question he wanted to ask was ‘what intentions do you have with the boy I consider my son even if his stubborn father won’t admit it is so’ but he knew that would embarrass Harry—he would ask it another time; however, when the two of them were alone.  
Draco and the Dark Lord had a most excellent conversation, but it was Harry Draco would rather be conversing with. Harry and his father were unusually quiet. Evan looked stiff and tired, Harry looked angry and protective. He could tell they both wanted the Dark Lord gone. 

The Dark Lord seemed to know better than to speak to them.  
Finally, the Dark Lord wiped his face with the expensive, Egyptian cotton napkin from his lap and exposed of it onto his plate. “That was a lovely dinner, Lucius, but I must go—my family cannot stand the sight of me. But it is the burden a good disciplinarian must bear.”  
Both Harry and Evan’s faces went red with anger and embarrassment, but they neither agreed nor disagreed.  
“Before I go, a couple of things. First, Lucius at the next meeting I am going to announce my new name is this life, but you will all hear it first tonight. Everyone knew me as Lord Voldemort and some as my former human alias: Tom Marvolo Riddle; but I will have a new name. I have finished my rebirth and henceforth will be known as Lord Ari.”  
“Yes, my Lord. We are honored to hear this news prior to the public.”  
“Yes. Well the Malfoy family has been loyal to my cause. You have done a great many things and I shall continue to reward you and your family Lucius. I would also like to entrust you with one more thing,” he said sending a private, arrogant smirk toward his insolent Consort—one that Lucius was not aware of.  
“Anything, my Lord.”  
“My family will be staying with you for three weeks, they wish a vacation,” he began stressing the word family and heating Evan’s anger another centigrade. No one knew the Dark Lord—Lord Ari—thought of Evan and Harry as family, they would now; he’d said it twice. “I need you to look after them, protect them. There are still those out there that would oppose us. I cannot allow them to leave the wards and protections of the Manor, but you know how it is being the Head of a family yourself—they don’t always listen to what is best for them. You will keep them here and make sure they are safe.” Of course it was an order, not a question and it was sealed with a smug look to Evan that said ‘I am willing to let you out to play, but it will be on my terms, Darlin’’.  
Lucius could only answer, “Yes, Lord Ari.” But he planned on having a much needed conversation with Evan over this new development later.  
“Good.” He stood up. “Come then my Darlings,” he said only to Evan and Harry. “Come wish Papa a nice good-bye.”  
Evan would wish him a nice good-bye, straight into oblivion! He signaled Harry to stand and they followed Lord Ari to the door without the two Malfoys.  
“May I have a hug from Harry, Evan? I’d like one from you as well, I’d like a kiss actually; but I doubt you’ll give me that willingly.”  
Lord Ari was right. “Go hug Pharaoh, Baby.”  
Harry did as his father bid him. “You said you would apologize,” he whispered into his Pharaoh’s ear as he hugged him hoping the hug would humble his Pharaoh’s remorseless, arrogance.  
His Pharaoh was Slytherin to the core; if Harry wanted something there would need to be a trade; Harry expected nothing less. “I’ll do it for a kiss from your father,” he whispered back.  
Harry didn’t know if it was worth it. He looked back at his father’s broken form; it made him want to skin the cocky Slytherin alive—like he’d pretty much done to his father—eye for an eye. But underneath it all was Lord Ari’s fucked up version of love. Harry couldn’t judge him for it. He knew his own version was also fucked up. He worshipped his father like a Lord and if anyone tried to tell him he should change his ideas of how to manage his love, he would kill them. No. He should not be counseling his Pharaoh, or judge him when it came to love and maybe for other things too.  
It was only his father that gave him hesitance. Would a kiss benefit him? He wasn’t sure. That was it then; he would not make his father—though he knew he could—but he would suggest it which had power all it’s own. When Pharaoh released him, he ran back to his father and embraced him in a gentle hug. “Will you kiss Pharaoh, Father?”  
He posed it as a true question; he did not want to pressure his father, but if his father did want to kiss Pharaoh he wouldn’t mind giving him a nudge.  
His father gathered Harry to his side, almost for protection and seethed at Lord Ari, “I will not. Leave and the next time I see you it will be too soon.”  
The Lord Ari’s generosity had long run out over dinner with the scorn he had suffered from the pair of them. He grabbed Evan’s arm violently, Evan released Harry, but Harry held steadfast to his father; if Evan went down, so would he. Lord Ari secured his other large hand under Evan’s chin with a force just short of crushing his jawbone. “That is the last time you will speak to me with such disrespect. Hate me if you will, but keep a clean tongue in my presence. Do you hear me, my Evan?”  
Evan put all the hate he could muster into his expression, which was limited by the bone-crushing grip still wrapped around his jaw; he could do nothing about the tears that fell from his eyes at his helplessness. It was a strange, poetic, statement.  
“Yes, Lord Ari.”  
Ari. It was like music to the Lord Ari’s ears. Something about hearing it off Evan’s lips made him wild with lust. Now if he could get him to loose the ‘Lord’.  
He released Evan and stormed from the house. He was without his kiss and Evan without his apology.  
“Come, Father,” said Harry’s small voice.  
Evan followed where Harry led him, bewildered and high with pain. 

AB

After undressing him completely, Harry laid his father on the bed, stomach down, with instructions to lie still until he returned. Harry knew the Malfoy’s must have everything. They were and always would be one of the most powerful families of the Wizarding world. He also knew, a one Draco Malfoy possibly had a crush on him. He had no idea how far that crush would go, but he knew it might be enough to procure him some potions for his father.  
He was surprised when he finally located the other boy, in the Manor’s private infirmary with the same idea as Harry.  
“Oh, hello,” Draco said smiling as he drank the beautiful boy in. “I thought your father could use some of these. My Uncle Severus makes them, he is the best.”  
“Yes, I know your Uncle Severus.”  
“Of course.”  
Harry did not attend Hogwarts; but being the son of one of the Dark Lord’s most treasured Death Eaters, he was bound to have met Severus a time or two. And Draco didn’t know this, but it was a lot more than a time or two.  
“These are for you then. This one; he should drink. I don’t know the extent of his injuries, but from the way he was moving at dinner, I expect he shall need something to relax his tired muscles. This one is to be applied topically. It will heal any open wounds and bruises as well as any other outer abrasions.”  
Harry smiled brilliantly at Draco, his father’s saviour. But he knew with Slytherins there was always a price. “Thank-you Draco and I accept them on any terms you demand.”  
“I do have something I want, but I don’t know if it’s in your capacity to give at this time. It is the only thing I want; however, so I must ask for it. I will add that you may give it whenever you feel you are ready and not a moment before.”  
Without his asking Harry already knew what the something was. He crashed into Draco, sealing his lips over Draco’s and kissing him with the wild passion of a boy becoming a man.  
When he pulled away, Draco was stunned and immediately knew: He must have more of that.  
Harry enjoyed it too, but that was all he would allow, so when Draco went in for more he pulled away. “I gave you your payment in full, now I shall have mine.”  
“I wished I’d demanded a larger boon. Next time you won’t get off, so easy,” he said allowing some of his Malfoyesque character seep through.  
Harry took the potions and carted them up to his father without so much as a look good-bye.  
He fed the first potion to his father then told him to lie back down and proceeded to lather the thick salve onto his hurts. Harry cuddled his father this time returning some of the love he’d taken, knowing what it felt like to be hurt by someone you cared about. “I think he is sorry, but his ego won’t allow him to apologize.”  
“I know child. Don’t mistake my fatigue for sadness. One’s body can only take so many beatings in one afternoon before it is in need of rest.”  
He knew his father wouldn’t lie to him, so clearly his father was lying to himself. Harry was fine with that, for now, but he’d have to help his father see the truth as his father had always done for him. Tonight; however, they huddled close and fell asleep to the sound of Harry’s voice.


	5. Chapter 5

As the boys flew skyward, Lucius and Evan sat down to tea. They sipped casually and munched on biscuits while thoughtfully gazing upward. Neither wanted to begin the conversation, but both wanted to have it. Finally Lucius gave in—he was most likely to loose what he valued; he had the least amount of power between the two.  
“Why am I involved in this game between you and the Dark Lord… Lord Ari, Evan?  
“You feel entitled to this information, do you Lucius?”  
“I do, but clearly you do not agree.”  
“The most I feel prudent to give on that one are my deep apologies. You are bonded to the Lord and you must do his biding without question, or explanation.”  
Lucius scowled, but he knew the man was right. No matter what he felt entitled to, certainly Lord Ari and Evan alike did not feel the same. He would need to give something of greater value if he wanted information. And he did. Lucius very much liked to save for his future so to speak and while he did not require the information in the case in order to carry out the task, it was an opportunity to collect information he could use at some time in the future. The man with all the good cards held the most power. Sure you could bluff, and Lucius was as good at bluffing as any Slytherin, but he preferred not to bluff; he would rather hold true power in his hand.  
“Lord Ari would like me to keep you here.”  
“You cannot keep me here.”  
“As I am well aware, but I now hold the responsibility of reporting your absences.”  
“Unless you are dead.”  
“If I am dead, you loose a safe haven for you and your son, a valuable ally, a resourceful source of information. I am not foolish enough to think we are friends, but I do hold value to you. You can kill me, there are some reasons you would kill me, but not for this, am I correct?”  
“Yes.”  
“Back to our topic at hand then, I can see you do desire to leave the property. I don’t know why, though of course I am curious; however there is other information I want, which triumphs this curiosity. I think we can work something out between us. I won’t tell Lord Ari of your absences, you will give me a piece of information each time you decide to leave.”  
“I will agree to your terms, but I want one more thing.”  
Lucius nodded for him to go on not promising anything, yet.  
“I have reason to believe our sons kissed last night, or something of that nature. I shall permit this, because I know Harry wants it, but I would like to prevent any more than kisses from happening.”  
“I will have a word with Draco at once. He is very obedient. He will obey me.”  
“That isn’t good enough. I want the boy put into chastity. I cannot put Harry into such a device, for reasons I will not divulge at this time, so it must be Draco.”  
“For how long?”  
“Until I am ready to allow the two to fornicate, of course.” 

“But what of when you are not here? Surely you don’t mean to keep the boy, my boy, in such a device when there is no reason for it.”  
“No reason? I beg to differ. Teenage boys are creative in their methods of seeking each other out for sex. Further, if Draco is going to partake in sexual intercourse with my Harry, I want to know that from this point forward he is pure—I do not care with whom he’s fucked before this, but he will not have sex with another until it is my son.”  
“You do have valid points, but this is still quite the price when I don’t know if the information you’ll give is worth such a price. I want one more promise. I will keep my son chaste for your son, if it will also be my son that he will marry.”  
“I don’t know that your son would enjoy a marriage to my Harry.”  
Lucius knew what the man did not say. To marry Harry was to marry Evan. Evan Rosier would forever control Harry’s life and by extension, Draco’s, if they were to marry. Harry wouldn’t be able to give his full devotion to Draco.  
Lucius cared not. The Malfoy’s had always been a family based on power and politics. Draco marrying Harry with Harry being considered the Dark Lord’s son would be an extremely powerful move—the most powerful move yet in Malfoy history.  
“I’ve survived an arranged marriage, my son is stronger than I. I have no doubt he would survive one also.”  
“And yet here we are at more negotiations. The wedding contract would have to survive my approval, and I couldn’t possibly tell you what all my requirements would be at this time. So here we are at check.”  
“I will agree to achieve your satisfaction with whatever stipulations you need into the contract, I would like to be allowed to give my input, but in the end it would be your specifications that would rule over mine.”  
“Fine. Agreed.”  
“Agreed.”  
After another moment, Lucius said, “I require one more piece of assurance. The Lord Ari is correct, there is an uprising, the two of you are not safe. How can I be sure that when you leave the protective wards of the manor you will be okay?”  
“Leave that to me Lucius. Harry and I have remained safe through more dire times.”  
Lucius knew that was the only answer he’d get for now. “Still, I have given my word to protect the two of you, so if you should need anything in that regard, you have but to ask.” 

 

AB

Severus’s salve did wonders for Evan’s wounds and he would have owled to thank him, but it would have brought to mind too many questions for Severus, such as ‘why did you require my salve?’ and ‘from where did you procure it?’  
Instead, Evan noted he would pay Severus a favor sometime and it would be his secret payment, only Severus would feel he owed Evan, which would be fine by him. Evan could use a man like Severus Snape on his side—Potions Masters were very valuable assets.  
Evan was currently enjoying a pain free stroll in the Malfoy Gardens with his son thanks to those assets. “Have you forgiven Pharaoh, yet, my Harry?”  
“I cannot forgive this—he didn’t apologize to you.”  
“And you know he won’t. You cannot be mad at him forever, we serve him, child. Would it help if I said I wished for you to forgive him?”  
“Yes, but only because if you have forgiven him there isn’t a reason for me to be mad. You were the one he wronged.”  
“I am beginning to think him and I have a relationship—the only kind someone like me could have and I am going to tell you something else I want you to remember: If he didn’t treat me as he does, I would crush him like a bug. What he does to me, I would do to him and have done to others, worse even. So don’t feel sorry for me a chroì.”  
“Yes, Father.”  
“Besides, I usually get most of what I want,” he said tucking a loose strand of Harry’s hair behind his ear.  
“Are you happy though, Father?”  
“You make me happy a chroì.”  
Harry giggled. “But I am your son, shouldn’t your lover bring you a different kind of happiness?”  
“Perhaps, but I do not seek that kind of happiness.”  
Harry thought that it was his father’s deep, dark secret that he did want that kind of happiness; one he hid even from himself. And when Evan had explained to him how the terms of his and Pharaoh’s relationship were within the realm of his father’s rules of war, he felt okay with how Pharaoh handled things earlier. If Lord Ari hadn’t done those things to Evan, Evan would have done those things to him—and Evan did. Not every wound was created through physical means. Thus, Harry supposed, they were evenly matched and they understood each other. What was more, they were both okay with what the other gave and took. It wasn’t up to him to play judge and juror for their relationship. He’d already been thinking that on his Pharaoh’s side of things, but being closer to Evan, he’d allowed his emotions to cloud his judgment. He would not do it again.  
“I’m sorry, Father. Once again, you are right. Should I floo, Pharaoh?”  
“If you would like,” he said pretending it was up to Harry, but this was Evan’s end all along.  
“I will Father. I’d also like to tell you something. I acted without your permission and it doesn’t matter why I did it, you should punish me.”  
“I think I shall decide if you require punishment, or not. Tell me what happened.”  
Harry told him the story of getting the potions for him and what he had to do to get them. “I know I should have asked you first, but even if you’d said no, I’d of done it anyway. I was getting you those potions no matter what.”  
“I see. You hold no remorse over this?”  
“I do not.”  
“Then I don’t see how punishment will aid you.”  
“It will if you’re disappointed in me—I’m willing to pay the price for my disobedience.”  
“No. I forgive you, son. You are learning how to be independent of me.” 

“Why do you keep talking of such things, Father? Are you going to get rid of me?” Harry almost shouted, angrily.  
“Never, a chroì. You will always be mine. I will be around a long time, but one day I will die—we all do and when I do, I want you to have someone.”  
“Is that what love is Father? Do you love me?”  
“I think, so. No one’s ever loved me before, so I can’t be certain, but I know if this isn’t love then I don’t need real love. I have you and that’s all I’ll ever need.”  
“Pharaoh loves you.”  
“Pharaoh loves controlling me. I am his most unruly pet and when he can bring me to heel it pleases him, makes him feel lust.”  
“But you said you are in a relationship with him.”  
“Not all relationships are founded on love. Look at Mr. Malfoy and I. Our relationship is founded on mutual interests and how we can exploit one another, no love there, yet it is still considered a relationship.”  
“I still think Pharaoh loves you even if he is too harsh for my tastes at times.”  
Evan smiled at his son knowing something about him in the moment that he did not know himself: His Pharaoh’s tastes would be his tastes. He’d known it about his son since his son was very little. It was often the most kind of hearts that could be turned the most cruel, for the most kind of hearts held the most room for feeling within, once turned dark, these hearts had great capacity for these dark designs.  
“Well the matter is settled. I do not feel punishment is prudent in this matter, besides, I am too grateful for the potions that healed me.”  
“I won’t do it again, Father—not without your permission.”  
“Then you have it. You may kiss the Malfoy boy.”  
“His name is Draco, Father.” 

AB

“I wanted to tell you I forgive you, Pharaoh.”  
“I thank-you, kitten, but what brought this about?”  
“Father isn’t angry at you over his punishment, I don’t think I should be either.”  
“So your father… he’s forgiven me?”  
“I think, so.”  
“I’m happy to hear it. Will you two come home soon then? I miss you both. It makes me nervous to have you two so far away—I wasn’t kidding when I said it was dangerous out there.”  
“Father has always taken care of us.”  
Lord Ari knew what Harry was implying, but he disagreed. “Maybe once, but there is an uprising coming. I’d prefer to assist with your protections this time.”  
“I will tell Father, Pharaoh.”  
Pharaoh smiled at him through the fire. “Alright. Have you been good for your, father?”  
Harry paused unsure of how to answer. His father and him kept no lies, or secrets between them, but they didn’t share this same confidence with the Dark Lord. He didn’t know how the Dark Lord would feel about him kissing Draco and while he didn’t fear for himself, he did fear for Draco. He knew the Dark Lord considered him a son. Right. Best wait for counsel from Father.  
“I have been good,” he said confidently. His father hadn’t punished him, so what he did wasn’t really bad, was it?  
“Good, boy. Any chance your father might want to talk to me?”  
Harry shook his head.  
“Right. Well floo me anytime you like; I can’t wait for you both to come home.”  
Harry told him goodnight and when the floo connection closed, his father came up behind him and put a hand on his shoulder. “You didn’t want to tell him of Draco?”  
“I don’t want Draco killed.”  
“He won’t kill him.”  
“But he considers me like a son—whether you agree or not—if he doesn’t like what happened between Draco and I…”  
“He supports your friendship with Draco. It was Lord Ari that convinced me to allow the friendship to continue.”  
“A friendship is different than kissing, Father.”  
“True, but you have nothing to fear. Would you feel better if I talked with him?”  
“Yes.”  
“When he visits next I will. Are you ready to go?”  
“Yes, Father.”  
And they headed off into the night. 

AB

“I do believe I am owed some answers…” drawled Lucius in a very haughty manner.  
“The boy is in chastity.”  
“He is.”  
“I would like it verified.”  
“You can’t be serious!”  
“I am very serious.”  
Lucius’s entire body tensed and seethed with rage. Evan was an impossible man. “Fine, but I want my answers first.”  
“What would you like to know?”  
“I want to know how is it you and Harry came to be Father and son. I know he is not your biological son. He belonged to the Potters once.”  
“Then he was given to his Mother’s sister. Blood wards were placed on her house to keep the Dark Lord out.”  
“Yes, I know all of that. None of this is new information, none of it answers my questions.”  
“Have patience Lucius. I will tell you what I can. If—and I stress the word if—you are to enter our family, I suppose you must know something of the why and how Harry and I became Father and son. It will have relevance to your son.”

“After the night I killed Alastor Moody, I had to go into hiding. The Aurors love that man and there was an army of them set out to find me with personal vendettas. I decided to hide in the last place they would look for me: A Muggle neighborhood.”  
Lucius looked impressed and like he had more questions, but he allowed Evan to continue speaking knowing most of what he had to ask would be answered.  
“I discovered that a one Arabella Figg lived in a particular Muggle neighborhood—a squib whom I knew associated with Dumbledore. Immediately, I suspected she might be a key to the Potter boy—the prize of all prizes to present to our Dark Lord—I was soon to find out how right I was. I wanted to take over the house next door to hers, imagine my surprise when I couldn’t step a foot onto the property. I took over the residence on the East side, disposing of the current occupants, since of course, it would have alerted the Aurors immediately of my whereabouts if I had decided to kill Arabella—Arabella was a spy for Dumbledore of sorts, meant to keep watch over the boy; not that she did a sufficient job,” Evan grumbled, disgusted.  
“I couldn’t pass the wards, but I knew without further proof, the boy had to be there. I of course wanted to get my hands on the famous boy-who-lived, like any other Death Eater—I was incensed that he would destroy our Lord, baby or not, I blamed him. I knew they would leave the safety of the wards at some point and that’s when I would make my move. I’d lie in wait, I had all the patience in the world to wait until the perfect day and one day it was rewarded.” Evan paused to take a sip of tea and so did Lucius, fascinated by the story. How simple it sounded to find the boy’s hide-away. Anyone of the smart and powerful Death Eaters should have been able to find him; if they’d only looked hard enough.  
“I watched for a month, from the protection of my own wards and immediately devised something strange was occurring. The family would leave their home occasionally, but they would only take one child with them: Their child. They would leave the other, Harry, all alone. This bothered me for reasons I couldn’t explain at the time. After all, why should I care? If these horrible Muggles assisted in his death where I couldn’t, what should it matter to me? I did desire to hand him to out Dark Lord, so the Dark Lord could dispose of him personally, but the report of his death would be a prize of another kind. Dead was dead, the Dark Lord would care little how it happened, only that it did. I continued to watch telling myself I was just waiting to make sure the boy was dead. I would have something to report upon the Dark Lord’s next rising. So I waited and watched. One day, I heard the most dreadful crying noise. It came from outside, I ran to see what it was. There in the middle of the street, well outside the wards, was Harry Potter. It was the first time I’d seen the boy, but I knew it was him without a doubt. He was the very replica of James Potter, nothing of Lily but her eyes. He was almost two, he should have been walking, but he wasn’t. He crawled aimlessly around the street. He looked injured, scared and unloved. My first instinct should have been to leave him for a car (a Muggle invention) to run him over and be done with it, or to let Arabella do her job and come out to rescue the boy, but neither of those things had time to happen because my actual first instinct had been to run out and scoop the boy up and bring him inside my house.”  
“The boy was positively a mess. The reason he couldn’t walk was because he had a leg that looked like it had been previously broken and it was repairing itself all crooked. He looked badly beaten and half-starved. Under his diaper Lucius…” Evan trailed off unable to describe the horror he found under there and I won’t describe it either, I will leave it up to your imagination to decide what you would see from a diaper that wasn’t changed too often.  
Evan’s eyes turned black at the horrible treatment of his son and Lucius could clearly see the vengeance he would take over and over from the Muggles.  
“As I said, I should have been glad, but I wasn’t. I didn’t know then but I know now: I fell in love with Harry at first sight. He became my son in that moment. Of course I didn’t know it at the time—I’d never been in love with anything or anyone.” Evan still wasn’t sure he knew what love truly was, but he wasn’t about to say that to Lucius. For the purposes of the story, he would describe his feelings in a way he thought Lucius could understand. “But the child, he looked at me like I was his savior; his eyes cried ‘Love me, or have mercy and kill me’. I did the former without any thought to the consequences of myself. I took the child in and did the only thing I knew how to do: I made him mine.”  
“Didn’t Dumbledore and the others hunt you down? He is considered savior of the light, at least, he was. Good as a Prince. And why wasn’t anyone alerted to his maltreatment before this?” Lucius couldn’t help himself anymore and he poured out the thoughts on his mind. The boy-who-lived should have been considered a Prince and treated as such. Even when Lord Ari had been Voldemort, he would have done so for someone, so valuable and revered.  
“My thoughts exactly Lucius. I couldn’t yet take the risk of fleeing to one of my own properties in the Wizarding world, so I had no choice but to remain hidden inside my Muggle abode. I expected everybody: Aurors, Muggle police officers, Potter family friends; but nobody came. Even the Figg woman said nothing. It was as if they had forgotten he existed. Either that, or they were so arrogant over the current protections on the home; they saw no need to check in.”  
“In the beginning I couldn’t be bothered over what really happened, I now had a broken child to worry over; and worry over him I did. I don’t know what compelled me, but I fixed him, using every kind of spell available to me: Dark and Light. I fed him, I nourished him, I trained him; I created a creature inside of him—in the metaphorical sense—there is not actual creature inside of him. Some of the things I did, were… controversial… but after seeing his mother die, and the abuse he suffered; Harry could never be ‘normal’. He is tainted, scarred, just as I am and that is why I understood what he needed. I still know what he needs better than anyone. There is much about Harry unknown to anyone but myself and in time I will reveal to you and your son if he should be the one my son marries. But I think this information sufficient for today. I took the boy in; the one nobody loved and made him mine.”  
Lucius was blown away and left with more questions, ones Evan could see burning in his eyes.  
“I know what you want to know: How did I keep him secret? When the Dark Lord returned, why did he not kill him, or take him as his own pet?” he smiled manically when Lucius all but drooled. Evan knew Lucius was an information kleptomaniac. He wanted, needed to have it. It was not as fodder for gossip, no, he did not blabber his information to anyone who would hear it, he saved it; traded it; or kept it on a shelf in his mind forever visiting it once in a while like one would a trophy. 

“You shall have to wait, but you shall get it. This talk of the Muggles… Well let’s just say last nights errand will have to be repeated.” That was the end of the conversation until the next evening.  
When Evan entered the parlor for more conversation, Draco waited with Lucius this time. The boy looked a mixture of furious and nervous; Evan smiled. Good. They both stood immediately when they saw him, as if they now saw him as a King of sorts. Probably due to what Lord Ari let ‘slip’, they either saw him as a King, or Consort to the King; both titles considered high amongst Death Eaters. Not thinking too much into it, nor caring at all who they thought he was, Evan entered the room like he owned it. His light hair whisking behind him, with his fine red robes flittering as if there was a breeze, but of course there was none in the parlor.  
Evan smiled maliciously at Draco. “Well, boy. Show me.”  
Gritting his teeth, while trying to maintain at least an ounce of dignity, Draco Malfoy removed his robes without a word, and pulled down his trousers and pants to reveal the soft, leather, chastity device he now wore. “Satisfied?” He finally said.  
“No,” Evan smirked. “Come, hither.”  
Draco shuffled the short distance over to Evan, still presenting his cuckolded penis defiantly. Evan reached out a hand to inspect it, grasping Draco’s penis in a clinical manner, yanking the flaccid thing upward to reveal his balls, which hung freely. Evan gently began to massage them. “Until my son is ready to take ownership; these are mine,” he explained still massaging. Draco took in a sharp gasp, tensing his entire body. He felt his cock begin to harden, which only served to pinch the skin as it attempted to grow within the confines.  
“This is mine too,” Evan continued squeezing the shaft through its leather cage. Draco whimpered and drew another breath. “For the time being you will get one hour, once per day to relieve yourself. You will have ten minutes per day to wash yourself. Am I clear?”  
“Yes, sir,” Draco said trying to prevent himself from moaning. His hands felt good whether he wanted them to or not.  
“What is the meaning of this Rosier?” Lucius dared to speak. “There was no discussion over these rules when the agreement was made.”  
“Consider this prelude to the marriage agreement then. Draco, you would like to marry my son, would you not?”  
“Yes, sir,” Draco said struggling on the edge of pain and pleasure the chastity device the only thing standing between him and an orgasm.  
“Then you will abide my rules. This can always end. You do this of your own free will, or not at all.” Rosier removed his hand from Draco’s nether region; Draco fell to his knees panting. “Well, what will it be?”  
“I will abide your rules, sir. I want to be Harry’s someday.”  
Interesting choice of words Evan thought. Perfect choice of words…  
“Very well and you won’t mind my intermittent inspections then, will you?” Evan would make certain his rules were being obeyed and he needed to begin the boy’s training in this way. He might have to commit to all of the boy’s training himself, but no decision had to be made on this yet. There were a few options. 

“No, sir,” Draco grit. He would mind, actually, but if it ended in him marrying Harry, he would do it willingly.  
“Good. Re-dress and go make sure my son is looked after.”  
“Yes, sir.” Draco moved to do this quickly wanting out of the madman’s sight.  
Lucius would have skinned him alive, if he had the power, but he didn’t; Evan still held more cards. “Be lucky you are consort to the Dark Lord Rosier, or no one would save you from me.”  
“That’s good, Lucius, very good. I like the devotion you have to your son, it is one of your redeeming qualities—my favorite one about you; we share this in common,” he warned.” After a meaningful pause and allowing Lucius to stare him down, “I shall reward you today. I will give you more information than you seek.”  
“Naturally, the boy grew to worship me. I saved him from the Muggles. I am now, one hundred percent certain how he ended up on the street: Accidental magic.” “You don’t think his Muggle relatives simply released him wanting to rid themselves of their ‘problem’?”  
“I had thought that in the beginning, but I know now that is not the case—one day he vanished from the place they kept him locked up. They assumed he had performed what they refer to as ‘freakishness’, or that one of his ‘freak-friends’ had retrieved him in the night. Either way, they were glad of it.”  
“I want to ask how you know all of this, but I have a feeling you are about to tell me, yes?”  
“Yes. I know, because I deliciously tortured it out of them, but that story will have to wait for another day. This will be the story of how Harry and I became a family.”


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the beginning of "in the past." Will continue for a few chapters, hope I made it clear enough in the writing.

“To re-cap, I brought the boy into my home. Concerned that someone would come for him, I used dark magic to cast a glamour over him, one that would hide his identity and make him appear more like my son.”  
“He still looks like you now,” Lucius pointed out.  
“Yes. That is no longer a glamor. I performed a private blood adoption not long after those first days, but we are jumping ahead of events. In those first days, I acted in haste. I simply grabbed the boy and brought him inside with no plan and no hope…”  
While Evan gave a vague accounting of events, only providing enough detail, so Lucius would know how the pair became a family, the Dark Lord’s involvement and how Evan made the child his, Evan thought back to those times…  
The Day Evan found Harry:

Evan peered out the window as he always did when he heard strange noises, only this time it was a noise that sounded familiar, at least something told him it should sound familiar even if that was in no way possible.  
Something was crawling around in the street. At first glance, it looked like an injured puppy, but Evan knew it was not a puppy; he knew who it was like he had always known the person.  
Without a thought to the consequences, he ran out to the street, scooped up the bundle a quick glance around (how no one heard the screaming child was beyond him—it was all he could hear) and ran into the small two-story bungalow.  
Inside, Evan looked the child over using the skills (the only skills) he had acquired from his father. The Child was an absolute mess. A broken leg that was beginning to heal in a crooked state, bruising…so much bruising, marks (from what he didn’t know), and dirt like the boy had never been washed and kept either outside or on the floor. He cried horrible sobs that were filled with pain and anguish and said ‘If you won’t love me then kill me.’  
The boy looked like he had experienced overall neglect. He was clearly fevered (infection) and he looked unwell (thin from possible lack of nourishment as well he showed classic signs of dehydration). Evan ran a hand gentle as possible through the thick raven hair (the only thing about the boy that looked healthy, Evan suspected it somehow had magic woven into it) the boy screamed louder and when Evan pulled his hand from his hair to find it sticky with blood, the Death Eater—who had killed and tortured more people than he had bothered to count—almost lost the lunch he’d just eaten.  
‘Dear Hades! What was done to you child?’  
The answer was not forthcoming from the child, the child could only cry begging for mercy of any kind…love him or kill him. Evan didn’t know what love was, but he knew in that moment he was willing to try. Even if his was a made up version, it would be a thousand times better than what the child had already experienced, even if he failed at it, the child wouldn’t know any different. 

Feeling confident that he was performing for an amateur audience, he got to work. Using the skills from his father, some Dark magic, some Light magic and what he decided would be love, he put the child into a magic induced coma, broke and re-set the child’s bones, salved and bandaged cuts and bruises. He thoroughly cleaned the child from head to toe finding the source of the infection, which had led to the fever under his diaper. The poor boy’s blood was experiencing septic-shock.  
He had to wake the boy to feed him icky potions he had on hand. The boy accepted fearfully unsure of what his new caretaker would do if he didn’t drink them down. Evan loved the look of fear; lusted for it even, but from this child it did nothing for him and he would work to rid that look off his face. He would make the boy, so strong and resilient, nobody would ever be able to hurt him again. The child was obviously, very strong to survive such an ordeal.  
It took hours, but when he was done, he had a boy that was mended physically and he could now work on the emotional wounds that Evan had no doubt would follow him around forever.


	7. Chapter 7

Several weeks later: 

No one came for him. Not an Auror, a Muggle police officer, a Headmaster, or even any of the several hundred Weasleys. It was like he was not even missed; like he didn’t exist. Evan was still paranoid. He used a complicated Dark spell that involved a complicated ritual to disguise the boy as his. He watched the house next door warily for any signs they knew, or cared that one of the occupants had gone missing. He saw them come and go; he watched them take the chubby little boy to and from events, he watched the Muggle Father get up and go to work everyday…  
No, he finally decided. They were glad to be rid of the boy, but why?  
Everyday Evan would think ‘this is the day, our last day together’. Evan had discarded the idea of killing the boy the instant he had decided to save him. Since that was out, his only option was to give the boy to someone who would take good care of him. If he turned the boy over to the Dark Lord, surely the Dark Lord would kill him on sight. Besides, even if he wanted to, there was no Dark Lord at the present moment, or if there was, he was too weak to anything. Not many people knew this, but the Dark Lord was immortal and literally couldn’t die. Dumbledore thought he’d cooked up some nonsense about horcruxes. Evan’s ear to the ground had found out about Dumbledore’s scheme to find them all, destroy them and prevent the Dark Lord from ever returning. If the Dark Lord were here, he would laugh his arrogant laugh and enjoy watching the fun. The Dark Lord was immortal; plain and simple: he could not would not die, ever. The world might be rid of him for a time, but the world could never be rid of him forever.  
Evan would give the boy to a good, Wizarding family and he could enjoy some happy years before the Dark Lord returned and destroyed him. Yes. That was the plan, the one he thought about every morning, the one he discarded by every afternoon saying he would do it tomorrow until eventually he just stopped thinking about it and he just stopped saying he would do it.  
Something happened in the middle of the street when he’d made his flash decision to take Harry in; something that had never happened before. Evan had grown a heart. Not inside him for Haiti’s sake, that spot in his chest was still as cold, black and empty as ever. No. Harry was his heart and it literally walked around outside of his chest.  
Well not walked. That was another problem—well not problem, Evan rather enjoyed this part, but he knew deep down it was not good for the boy—Harry would not let go of him.  
The boy hung onto him like a limpet. He didn’t talk, he didn’t cry (unless Evan put him down then he screamed bloody murder), he didn’t do anything, except for hang on, so tightly to Evan one would need to Crucio the boy off of him—and if anyone ever tried they would find themselves facing ten years of brutal torture before he ripped out their gastrointestinal tract in alphabetical order. Evan could almost hear the boy chanting in his head ‘please don’t leave, don’t get rid of me, I’ll do whatever you say, just keep me’, over and over. 

Evan found he didn’t want to let the boy go and he didn’t mind that everything he did now involved Harry hanging from his hip and if he couldn’t do it one handed, he didn’t do it. Lucky for him he was a Wizard, so he could do most everything. The boy cuddled close to him as they slept and Evan soothed all of his nightmares. Harry wouldn’t leave his sight for a second—neither wanted to leave the other—and they became co-dependent in some ways though it was Harry that was more dependent on Evan. He wouldn’t even eat unless Evan specified that it would be something the boy did just for Evan. The boy was in diapers far past the time he should have been because he wouldn’t leave Evan’s arms long enough to sit on a potty. When he had to change a diaper, Evan had to bear the boy’s anguished sobs while he was parted from his beloved savior.  
Though Harry wouldn’t say a word, Evan said many words to Harry. He talked to him constantly attempting to teach him things. He could sense the boy was bright and he could feel the magical strength buzzing around him.  
Once Evan decided Harry was his, it created a whole host of other things Evan had to decide; like what role would he play in Harry’s life? Was he an Uncle? A parent? A good family friend? He knew by the way the boy looked at him he meant more than all of those things to Harry. Evan ended up leaving this decision and not referring to himself as anything.  
Finally one day it came out of his own mouth when he didn’t expect it.  
They were in the shower one day, it had been many days since he had first brought Harry into his home, many months, and it was bordering on a couple of years. It was far past the time where Harry should have begun talking, but Evan didn’t worry; if his boy never talked then he never talked. Evan understood him just fine and if anyone had anything to say about it, he would embalm them and bury them at the bottom of the ocean.  
Since Harry wouldn’t leave his side, Evan had to shower with him choosing to wash Harry up at the same time. Harry was squeaky clean and Evan was finishing up cleaning himself with one hand as Harry clung onto his arm whimpering to get back up. It was always a bit of a marathon. He didn’t want Harry to cry long, so he’d wash himself as fast as he could, rinse and pick the child up again.  
One this day he was in a bit more of a rush than usual. Harry had an exceptionally bad night, he wouldn’t have even bothered with a shower, but he’d already forgone showering the day before for a similar reason and what he’d seen under Harry’s diaper the day he brought him home scared him into keeping the boy unusually clean (not that he would not have been kept clean anyway, but it put him in the neurotic category now instead of outstandingly so). He decided to brave the shower with a tired boy and it went every bit as horribly as he’d predicted. As soon as he put the boy down so he could clean himself, the boy began screaming bloody murder. Evan dropped his bar of soap and when he reached down to scoop up his little boy, he slipped on it. Falling was inevitable, but he would not let his little boy get hurt, so he protected little Harry on his way down and was unable to avoid falling into the Muggle shower curtain. The pole holding the shower curtain was a cheap thing (at least, far cheaper than the pureblood heir was accustomed to) and it fell, whacking Evan on the head. Evan didn’t care how badly he was hurt, just that the little boy in his arms was okay. 

The pair ended up on the floor of the bathroom wrapped up in Muggle shower curtain with the shower still spraying down and now without the shower curtain, water sprayed all over the floor. These events made the boy scream louder; Evan grew desperate. He couldn’t take the crying; not because it annoyed him, but because it broke his heart—the one outside his body of course.  
“Shh… Shh… Shh..” He soothed. “It’s alright, Baby. Daddy can fix.” He hadn’t realized what he said until it was out of his mouth. With the wave of his hand, everything was back to rights, the shower turned off, the bathroom dry, and the two occupants naked on the floor.  
Harry had stopped crying and looked up at Evan with wide eyes; Evan held his breath. He didn’t know what to say now; he’d already admitted his heart’s desire. He was worried about being rejected and didn’t know if he could handle it if this little boy didn’t want him to be his Daddy.  
Harry broke out into a big smile and snuggled his head into Evan’s chest, “Daddy, fix.”  
It was Evan’s turn to look wide-eye at the boy. Not only had the boy spoke, he’d said two words and he’d called Evan Daddy. All Evan could say back was, “Uh-huh.”  
Then the boy giggle for the first time since he’d been living with Evan and it made Evan feel the happiness of a million sunrises. “Daddy fall down.”  
“Oh? You think that’s funny do you?”  
“Uh-huh,” he said in a perfect imitation of Evan. It made Evan’s smile wider, his cheeks felt like they would burst. Evan had never been, so happy and knew the source of his happiness was Harry. He had to keep the boy, no one could take him; nothing had ever felt this good.  
Evan began to covet the boy and Evan didn’t feel bad for coveting the boy. It was the perfect Slytherin trade: He gave the boy a home, food and kindness and in return Evan got to keep Harry all to himself. Fair was fair. Harry didn’t seem to mind at all and if he had the words, Harry would have probably told Evan he could take more from him, as long as he never, ever gave Harry away.  
The boy got quite indignant over it.  
The boy was also overjoyed to have a Daddy and he interjected the word at every turn. Since he hadn’t spoken, some words were hard for him and he needed practice, but in a few months he had quite the vocabulary. ‘Daddy, do. Daddy go see. Daddy stay. Daddy eat. Daddy snuggle. Daddy rock. Daddy silly.’ He knew the words—Evan had made sure to talk with him lots even if he hadn’t said a word back, but he had to say them for his brain to develop the muscle to speak them.  
Evan wasn’t the only one smiling, Harry smiled too; everyday, which made the cold Death Eater warm a few hundred centigrade—but only when it came to Harry.  
One of Evan’s problems now solved, he moved onto the next: Harry’s appearance. Some Dark spells were inert, a few were mild, some were moderately viable, and some were downright dangerous. He had used inert Dark spells to heal Harry (inert in that they didn’t take to life on their own), but he had to use one of the more dangerous spells to maintain Harry’s appearance. This particular spell was fine for the time being, but became active if it were activated by the right events. Evan knew from experience that even the most complicated activators could still be ignited by chance. He had to do something about that. He now considered this boy his son. 

Evan’s slip of the tongue in calling him Daddy had solved the second of what he considered to be a larger problem: He would go forward with the blood adoption. He knew of the spell they used to preform blood adoptions; there were two actually. The one they used at the Ministry and the ancient one involving dark magic they used in the days before dark magic was outlawed and you weren’t considered evil for using it. The second of the two was the more binding of the spells and of course was one of the dark spells with some mildly, viable, aspects.  
It was the one he would use without a doubt. He was certain by now that Harry, his son (he really loved saying that), had more than the magical capacity to handle the small bit of side effects without being overtaken. In any case, he had Evan—his father (he loved saying that too)—and he could provide what he needed, if he needed, in terms of magic to help settle the darkness within him. He wasn’t worried in any case. If anything was going to affect his son later it would be the Avada Kedevera spell the Dark Lord had used him at birth, one of the most dangerous, dark spells in existence.  
He would already have to deal with that one, what was a little more in exchange for what it would bring both him and his son?  
Evan didn’t think much, so he went ahead with it.  
Roughly the years after the blood Adoption:  
Evan liked the result he got from the blood adoption ritual. Harry’s facial structure strongly resembled Evan’s sharp aristocratic features. His green eyes remained and his hair ended up a dark chestnut with shimmery auburn low-lights, like Evan’s Mother’s. Lily had a similar color, Evan knew, but due to the type of adoption ritual he used, he knew the boy would now have only Evan’s family’s DNA with only a small amount of Lily and James Potter left over. Evan’s hair was a strawberry blonde; a blend blonde from his father and some of his mother. He would rather not be reminded of his father at all if that were possible. His son would be a handsome man—he was an adorable little boy.  
Evan had important ministry connections and would one day announce his son to the world through bureaucratic channels as well, but none of that mattered for the time being. Since the adoption ritual he had done was binding through blood; regardless what any paper said, the two were joined at a level that neither of them could deny. It would be difficult for any authority to prove who Harry really was. Evan’s blood ran through him now. Harry really was Evan’s son.  
He’d been calling Harry, Harry, so he left it at that for now so as not to confuse the child, but one day Evan would change it and he would be a Rosier.  
As spoiled as any pureblood heir and double so, Harry got everything. Like all new parents, Evan wanted to give Harry whatever he wanted with no thought to the consequences. He discovered how much harry liked toys, so he bought out stores. For a while the small Muggle house was littered with toys in every nook and cranny. The boy still clung to him; Evan still didn’t care.  
The child was five before Evan decided he really ought to get Harry out of diapers. Harry was still like a limpet and Evan didn’t mind on his part, he enjoyed Harry’s dependence on him, but in the long term this arrangement was not realistic. 

Evan would have to do the thing he despised most: He would have to listen to Harry cry.  
Since he was big enough, Evan skipped the ‘potty’ as well as all the ‘potty-type’ chatter. “Harry, you must learn to use the toilet,” he tried as he took his child’s diaper off with one hand, sat him down on the toilet and pried him away from him. Harry immediately began crying and shouting. “Daddy, up! Don’t go! Don’t go! I be a good boy!” He obviously thought Evan was leaving him.  
“Yes, you are a very good boy for Daddy, but it’s time to be a big boy!” He tried to say jovially, but he didn’t think his voice did jovial. It may have looked slightly scary, either way, Harry screamed louder.  
“I sorry. I sorry. Please Daddy! I sorry!”  
Harry cried real tears; Harry was breaking Evan.  
“How bout a story, love. Daddy will read you a story while you pee.”  
He tried a few more things like that, but the child was inconsolable. Evan finally realized that the way he’d been doing things wasn’t functional. He was careful not to use the word: Dysfunctional. He knew there would always be things about his and Harry’s relationship that were dysfunctional, but it didn’t mean that they couldn’t be functional.  
Terrified of what would happen, Evan mustered his courage to be firm. But a firm Evan was a frightful Evan—there just wasn’t an in between.  
“Harry Rosier, you will be quiet this minute, or Daddy will spank your bottom,” said his chilling voice. He didn’t know if he’d actually go through with the threat, he supposed he’d make himself, but he just hoped it was enough to get Harry to behave.  
It worked alright, a little too well; Harry went stone silent as did everything in the house. Harry’s eyes were wide with a trembling lip, but he did pee in the toilet—the one sound that could be heard down the block, Evan was sure, because he’d silenced everything within a five mile radius at least.  
It didn’t stop Harry from clinging to him as soon as he was released from the toilet, but Harry was quiet for the rest of the afternoon, right up till after dinner when Evan was rocking Harry to sleep. Evan had tried to get him to talk all day, but Harry would only nod or shake his heads as his questioning.  
Finally, as they rocked, Evan heard a small voice ask, “Daddy?”  
“Yes, love?”  
“Harry can talk again?”  
And Evan instantly hated himself. “Of course you can talk, Baby.”  
“But Daddy said, be quiet Harry Rosy, or Daddy will spank you.”  
“Perhaps, Daddy was a bit harsh, love,” he said carding his hand through the dark locks.  
“It’s otay, Daddy. I love you.”  
Love? Love? Could this little boy know what love is? Could Evan Rosier be loved? How did Harry even know that word? He didn’t know, but if what he felt right now was love then he believed he loved this one little boy.  
“Go to sleep, my Harry.”  
If only Evan knew how difficult potty training children was supposed to be. He merely told Harry that from now on he was to do all the things he used to do in his diaper in the toilet now and that he should tell Daddy when he had to go and Daddy would help him. He thought that last bit would more than make up for what had happened on the first day.  
“Yes, Daddy,” Harry had said and it was done. No mistakes, or accidents; if Evan had known it would be so easy; he would have done it a lot sooner.  
With another problem down, one more much larger problem loomed: Evan could not stay here forever. No one had come for the boy, but that didn’t mean they wouldn’t. What of his Hogwart’s letter? His child would get one and either it would arrive next door and someone would be alerted then than Harry no longer resided with the Muggles, or the owl would be re-routed to the same place all his mail re-routes to. Either scenario ended in suspicion being raised. If the child was sought out, he’d rather it be later rather than sooner, and after the Dark Lord was back.  
Which was also another one of his problems. The Dark Lord was a problem in himself; would the Dark Lord agree go along with the scheme he was planning on hatching?  
But like with all things having to do with Harry, the answers just seemed to fall from the sky.  
The wards Evan placed on the house allowed Evan to take Harry outside in the small Muggle yard. Evan had bought Harry a sandbox. It was slow going to convince Harry to unlatch from Evan and play in the dirt, but eventually he did.  
Evan was cheating with magic to help Harry build a death fortress out of nothing but sand; he got caught up wanting his son to have only the best death fortress while Harry was distracted by a movement and followed it. It was unlike Harry to leave Evan’s side, ever, but something about the movement had clearly mesmerized the child. Evan saw Harry move out of the corner of his eye.  
“Harry? Don’t leave, Daddy. Harry…” He watched the boy stop and point. If his Daddy told him not to go any further, he wouldn’t, but he hoped his Daddy would take him to go see.  
“What is it son?”  
“S-s-s-snake, Daddy.”  
“Snake?” Evan became suspicious right away—he was always suspicious of snakes and with good reason. He walked over to the thing and the snake had no compunction slithering right before Harry and him, standing up like he was Lord of the Garden. Evan recognized the snake immediately. The thick, long purple thing had spectacular diamond patterns along its spine and scales that glittered black in the sunlight. Its head was a large oval shape and peering out at him were familiar, blood-red, eyes.  
Evan moved to scoop Harry up, but before he did the snake spoke. Not like a human of course, like a snake: It hissed. Little Harry began to giggle. Evan looked at his child alarmed.  
“Harry?”  
“S-s-s-silly, s-s-snake, Daddy.”  
Evan scooped Harry up and placed him on his hip in the manner that had become routine. It was Harry’s place, on the right, snuggled into the side; with Harry’s arms latched around Evan’s torso.  
“What do you mean, silly snake?” Evan did not like where this was going. 

“He said you won’t know what he’s saying and that I tell Daddy that Daddy’s clothes are funny!” Harry told him excited.  
Evan’s eyes narrowed in fear and panic and without meaning to, he directed these feelings at his Harry, “Can you understand the snake, Harry?”  
The boy, obviously thinking Evan mad at him curled into Evan’s side and clung tightly to him, “Daddy, I sorry. I not talk wif snake. I sorry. I sorry.”  
“Shh… Shh… Shh… It’s okay Baby, Daddy’s not mad at Harry—Daddy was just scared,” he told Harry as the snake watched on with a familiar smirk—why was the damned snake still a snake?  
“But can you understand the snake? Or are you pretending you know what the snake is saying?” Evan knew it was a stupid question before it was out of his mouth. Harry didn’t pretend. Harry only did the things Evan instructed him to do and didn’t stray outside those instructions. Evan wished he would take initiative and do such things—it would be a sign that Harry was healing from what the Muggles did to him.  
“Nu-uh, Daddy. He says your shirt is funny,” Harry said in a small voice.  
“What’s wrong with my shirt?” he said to the snake, pulling it out with his free hand. “Poison is great Muggle rock band—and their lead singer doesn’t hurt the eyes.” The snake laughed a snake laugh at Evan. Evan wasn’t sure if the snake could understand his English, or not and he needed to check on something to make certain of what he was thinking about his son.  
“Harry, tell the snake to be a human, like us. Can you do that?”  
“I try, Daddy,” Harry smiled, relieved his Daddy wasn’t mad at him, but worried over this new task and what would happen if he couldn’t complete it.  
When Harry looked at the snake, he began to hiss at it. It would sound like a lot of nonsense, to anyone else, anyone but Evan; he’d hear similar hissing from a human before. He just could not believe that his son shared the very same special power from the Dark Lord—it was a bit unnerving watching your tiny son converse with the deadly, anachronistic, looking creature.  
The snake glared at Harry, clearly surprised and not thrilled to be coming to the same realization as Evan; there was another parselmouth in the world and from the cold calculation in the snake’s eyes he could see the conclusion the snake was coming to: He knew Harry was Harry Potter.  
Evan jumped back when the snake lunged at them, Harry didn’t seem afraid. He continued to talk to the snake until he calmed down some. The snake finally responded. It seemed Harry could converse better in ‘snake’ than he could in English.  
“He can’t, Daddy. He’s sick. He wants food.”  
“Of course he does,” Evan said caustically. The man dies and has obviously been traipsing around as a snake all this time and doesn’t show up ‘till years later! The nerve. And when he does, he comes demanding food and lunges at his son? The Dark Lord could rot for all he cared!  
“Come along Harry. I’m sure the snake can find some rats in the garden.”  
“But he’s sick, Daddy.”  
That stopped Evan. Harry NEVER said anything back to Evan once Evan decided something. He also felt bad for earlier when the boy thought Evan was mad at him. He turned back around, stopped and glared at the snake. He carded a hand gently through Harry’s hair. 

“Repeat my words to the snake, Harry.”  
Harry nodded.  
“You may come in and I will take care of you, but you will not harm my son, or you will become the latest addition to his collection of stuffed toys. Got it?”  
The snake laughed his snake laugh again after Harry translated and hissed something back.  
Harry had a bit of trouble finding the words in English, but Evan got the gist. The Dark Lord (locked in his snake animagius), had said something along the lines of, “I am yours Lord Evan. I will not harm your youngling.” And smirked all the way as he slithered inside.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter still takes place in the past.

Harry and Evan took care of the Dark Lord, feeding him and keeping areas of the house extra warm for him with charms. Harry took to taking care of the snake. He had no fear of it and chattered incessantly to it in both parseltongue and English—Evan had never heard Harry speak so much. It would have made him jealous, but Evan was too Happy to see the boy so Happy.   
The Dark Lord tried to play aloof and act indifferent towards the little boy, but over time he noticed the Dark Lord watching Harry with interest. And not only in a plot-hatching type of way (though there was some of that as was to be expected) but Evan dared to say that the snake was becoming fond of the boy.   
Harry enjoyed the company of his snake, so much, he actually allowed Evan to put him down beside the large, awful thing and would sit there for hours. And after more time, the snake seemed to take up a protective role (though Evan knew the snake would never admit it) and he would follow Harry around the house while Evan made meals. It was easier and faster, getting these things done with two hands now, and though Evan had never minded the boy on his right hip, he was happy to see Harry begin to flourish. Harry was never short of cuddles for his Daddy though and spent plenty of time doing just that. When they would cuddle, the snake began to get jealous; however, and his jealousy grew to such proportions that the snake ended up in bed with them one night and was not discovered till the morning. Only the snake was no longer a snake.   
Evan heard Harry giggling—that was what woke him, but what caused him to jump up in alarm was the deep, baritone voice he remembered, only it heavily rasped, now and maintained some of the hiss from being a snake. Evan knew the Dark Lord was still weak.   
Clearly he had transformed, not to mention he’d had the audacity to do so in their bed for the first time, but he was still only a shell of who he used to be. His face had a snake-like appearance and the skin was a bluish-white. His eyes glowed red as always.   
The two of them were laughing at something—what he didn’t know, it was obviously something the Dark Lord had said to Harry while Evan still slept. As Evan sat up, he pulled Harry to him.   
“What is the meaning of this, my Lord?”  
“I am conversing with my hatchling,” said the haughty, other-worldly voice.   
“Your hatchling?”  
“Yes. He speaks my language. He is like me.”   
Evan pulled Harry tighter to him. He could have Harry—when he was cold and dead.   
“Harry is my son…”  
The Dark Lord laughed his arrogant laugh. It was eerily similar to when he was a snake. “Of course he is. I did not mean to imply he wasn’t—but he is also my hatchling—we are a family now, the three of us.”   
Evan stood up from the bed pulling Harry with him. “What do you want, Tom?” He used the familiar name this time. He wasn’t going to play games this early in the morning. “Mmmhmm…. I loved it when you called me that, when you moaned it underneath me, but unfortunately that isn’t my name anymore.” 

“What is it then?”  
“Ari.”   
“Fine, what do you want, Ari?”  
“Why don’t we have this conversation, over breakfast? I’ll take Harry and get him dressed…”   
“You will do no such thing. Go make breakfast while I deal with my son, on second thought, just go downstairs—I’ll be there momentarily.” He also did not wish to be poisoned this early in the morning.   
The Dark Lord just smiled completely ignoring his order not to make breakfast. When he came down with Harry, there was a full spread; eggs, bacon, pancakes and fruit. Evan didn’t know the Dark Lord knew how to cook.   
“In one of my lives I was a short-order cook for the navy,” he winked.   
Evan sat down skeptically, keeping Harry in his lap.   
“There is no need to be, so over protective. I should not have phrased it how I phrased it upstairs about Harry. I’ve been a snake for far too long; I was only attempting to relay that he has nothing to fear from me. I will not kill the boy as I consider him one of my own—like you Evan.”   
This was only partially relieving. He didn’t like the way the Dark Lord—Ari—referred to Evan as his. It felt different than the way he might have meant it before, as in Evan was his because he was one of his followers. Something was up, but Evan thought it best he reserve comment for now.   
Ari served them and Evan waited for the Dark Lord to eat before he took any bites, or dared feed anything to his son. The three ate in silence.   
“Thank-you for the meal, it was quite… pleasant.”   
Ari smiled his snake-like smile. “Yes. I missed food like that, but I do thank-you for the rodent fair. It gave me nice strength as you can see.”   
Evan looked the Dark Lord over. He had obviously helped himself to some of Evan’s Muggle clothing. He did look good though—as much as Evan wanted to deny it—with a well built body that looked strong and Evan knew would only gain more strength as he gained his powers back.   
“I thought you made fun of that shirt—I believe you told Harry I looked… silly.”   
Ari laughed a deep rumble. “Yes, well I was rather put out with you that day, but now I find this shirt has meaning to me and you are right, this man,” he pulled the shirt out to emphasize the man on the front, “is rather pleasant to look at—though not half as pleasant as you.”   
The Lord’s arrogance astounded him, but he could not prevent the blush that stained his cheeks. “Thank-you my Lord, but I have a child now and I cannot continue you our previous… liaison.”   
“Stop it with all this ‘My Lord’ nonsense. I don’t want to be called my Lord by you. I’d rather Ari. And there is no reason you and I cannot…” he was going to say ‘fuck’ but thought better of it around their little one, so he gestured between the two of them. “You' re being silly.”   
"Harry is my priority."  
"Above your Lord?"  
"You know what I mean," Evan evaded, but he did mean that.

"No, but I wouldn't mind having it explained to me; we have time." Ari's glare challenged Evan—Evan challenged back with a glare equally as fierce.  
The Dark Lord gave in after a time, Evan being the only one he Dark Lord ever gave into and only when it was something he wasn't hell bent on. "Perhaps I began on the wrong foot this morning. Let me say it again; it is not my intention to take Harry from you, or replace his importance. I have seen how much the two of you mean to each other."  
He paused when Evan still didn't move. He didn't trust the Dark Lord one bit. "I merely wish to... Partake... and maybe a little S-E-X. Evan, I know I've been absent..."  
"For three years," Evan interjected.  
"Yes for three years. Oh, is that what this is about? Come on... Oh come on Evan! I was dead. Killed by your child!"   
It was the same arrogant bullshit and really, what should one expect from such a cocky immortal?  
Harry put his hands over his ears when Ari raised his voice. "Loud, Daddy," he complained.  
"You are a menace. You are bothering the baby," Evan warned taking out his wand.   
Because he enjoyed wearing Muggle t-shirts, he had created a device he wore around the wrist of his wand hand.  
"I will be quiet. My apologies, Harry,” he said too sarcastically for Evan’s liking. “You are ridiculous, Evan. That boy needs a firm hand—I've seen the way you coddle him."  
"OUT! OUT!" Evan shouted, Harry pressing his hands to his ears again, wand waving in the Dark Lord’s face. "Slither yourself back to the hole you came from, or I will gladly put holes in you.”   
“Calm down, for Hades’s sake! I’ll be quiet. Geez! Now get that wand out of my face.”   
“You cannot stay here. Get out.”   
“I am your Lord, I will stay here if I please.”   
“You told me to call you Ari a moment ago. Which is it? Ari, or my Lord?”  
“Ari.”   
“Then get out, Ari.”   
“Fine. My Lord then.”  
“You may stay in the Garden, my Lord,” Evan said sarcastically.  
“Evan! For the love of… What do I have to do to stay here?”  
“Go stay with Lucius. He will grovel and scrape at your feet—cater to your every whim.”   
“I don’t want to stay with Lucius. I want to stay with you and Harry.”   
“Then we are at an impasse. I do not want you to stay here.”   
“Why? Does this have to do with me being gone for three years?”  
“It has to do with you being an arrogant Bastard, thinking you can trounce in here without a word and pick up right back where we started.”   
“If I can’t yell in front of Baby, why are you allowed to swear in front of him?”  
The wand was back in the Dark Lord’s face in and instant. “Leave.” 

Ari read between the lines: Evan didn’t want to spell it out, but he was hurt and even if it wasn’t his fault (because it’s not like he wanted to die), he would have to prove himself if he wanted back into Evan’s life. Ari suspected it had a lot to do with Harry.   
“Is the garden still on offer?”   
“Of course, my Lord,” Evan smirked.   
So it was back to ‘my Lord’ was it? No matter. Ari had a plan that would have Evan eating out of the palm of his hand.   
More than peeved, the Dark Lord reverted to his snake form and Evan held the door open for him as he slithered out. But as much as Evan wanted the Dark Lord gone, the other occupant of the house did not want his snake to leave.   
“S-s-s-snake? Daddy?” Harry said pointing.   
“The snake is going bye-bye, Harry.”  
Harry became distraught and Evan was about to experience his first little person melt down. The little boy’s eyes filled up with tears and his lip trembled; he began to sob as he squirmed to get down.   
Evan held to him steadfast. “Harry, none of that now…” But the little boy’s emotions took over. The sob turned to a wail and since he couldn’t get down he made grabby hands towards the still open door. Evan shut and locked it.   
“Stop, Daddy. S-s-s-snake!” He cried brokenly. Once again Evan cursed the man (who was now a snake that resided in his Garden), he was responsible for this.   
“That snake is not a snake, a chroì, but a very bad man.”   
Harry shook his head. Harry never said ‘no’ to Evan, even in a gesture. “My S-s-s-snake, Daddy. Please. S-s-snake inside,” he begged.   
Maybe if Evan distracted him, he would forget about the snake. “Tomorrow, love. We’ll visit in the Garden with him tomorrow, how does that sound?”  
Harry cried louder.   
The Dark Lord had heard his little hatchling crying for him, since his hearing was ultra good as a snake and to his surprise, he really did not like to hear the young one cry. Stupid Evan, not letting him stay in the house! Ari had already slithered to the Garden in the back yard, facing the kitchen. He listened to his little one cry and to his father attempt to soothe and distract him with no avail.   
When he couldn’t take it anymore (he’d thought Evan a competent parent till now), he slithered up to the large window, by the kitchen door and knocked on it with his head. Harry heard the noise and paused his crying as looked for its source.   
He saw his snake and giggled. When Evan saw the source of his son’s joy he glared at the kitchen window. Harry squirmed to get down again and this time Evan let him go. He ran up to the window, smooshed his small hands against it and giggled some more.   
Seeing how happy he was making Harry, Ari would hide his head around the corner then pop his head back in view of the window, engaging Harry in a game of peek-a-boo. ‘The boy isn’t crying now, is he Evan?’ Ari thought, ‘and it’s all my doing’, he smirked.   
Ari played peak-a-boo with Harry for a long while. Evan was too happy to see Harry giggling to pull him away, but he sat glaring on at the Dark nuisance. Harry wouldn’t even leave to eat and would ask his Daddy every once in a while, “S-s-s-snake inside yet, Daddy?” Like the thought the snake was having a time out; to which he would reply, “No, Harry.”   
Then, they double-teamed him. The snake in question would look to him as well, when Harry would ask again, ‘S-s-s-snake inside, yet, Daddy?’ seeming to say ‘Yeah ‘Daddy’ please let me back in, I’ll be good’ with his eyes. Only Evan knew better, the snake was not well behaved and as soon as Evan allowed him in the house, he would try to have sex with Evan.   
Evan was forced to feed Harry by the door, else bare his crying and the snake found great enjoyment in Evan’s torment, clearly laughing his snake laugh. Harry still sat with his snake when it was time for bed and Evan had no idea how to get his child away from the door without him screaming bloody murder.   
His small voice asked again when it started to get dark, “S-s-s-snake inside yet Daddy?” There was a tremble in his voice this time and Evan balled his fist glaring at the snake furiously. He would have to let the snake back in, but perhaps they could have a Dark Lord free night.   
“Tomorrow Harry. The snake may come in tomorrow.”   
“Cold, Daddy,” Harry pleaded sadly.   
“Say night-night to the snake Harry,” he forced himself to say firmly. Harry’s face scrunched up; he was trying not to cry. Evan was irritated with the Dark Lord, if he would have just left…  
Harry would probably still be sobbing, he realized and Evan would be forced to going to the trouble of finding him. Oh! He saw no win in this situation. If he didn’t allow the Dark Lord to live with them it would upset Harry.  
“Night, s-s-s-snake,” Harry said in a sad little voice with a perfunctory sniffle and for a second he wondered if Harry was Slytherin enough to manipulate him. He picked Harry up and looked at the forlorn face wiping the silent tear away. “Your snake will be fine a chroì.”   
Harry nodded into his chest—he would not go so far as to argue with his Daddy and Evan had to put a very sad little boy to bed. He would kill the Dark Lord tomorrow for this.


	9. Chapter 9

The next morning Harry ran to the kitchen door. He’d talked about ‘his snake’ all the time it took for Evan to dress him.  
“S-s-s-snake inside! S-s-s-snake inside!” he shouted happily and Evan was forced to open the door to allow the Dark Lord admittance. He slithered smugly by and immediately paid tribute to his hatchling and savoir by nuzzling his head up to the boy in a very unsnakely gesture.  
Not long after, the snake became a man again and he did look a little worse for wear. “I assume that little tantrum will not be repeated, Evan.”  
Evan rolled his eyes. “No my Lord.”  
“I’m staying.”  
“Only by Harry’s good graces, I feel it prudent to remind you.”  
“Yes,” he agreed and smiled at the boy and stroked his hair. He looked to Evan for permission and Evan nodded (nodding only because he knew it would make Harry happy) and the Dark Lord picked him up, settled him onto his hip and hugged him close.  
“Good job my little hatchling. I find I cannot stay angry with you for killing me in my last life—besides, we’re kind of even as I was trying to kill you,” he admitted. “You won the fight like the clever little Slytherin you are.”  
“Actually, my Lord, as much as I do see the Slytherin in him—I think Harry would have been Gryffindor.”  
“Nonsense. This boy’s Slytherin to his core and what do you mean would have been? Will you not send him to Hogwart’s?”  
Evan told him of the Muggles and their treatment and finally got round to updating him as to his ‘in hiatus’ status, he brought up the property—the one with the fidelus.  
“Ahh, so you’re little banishment was simply as punishment—you do need me,” he said triumphantly.  
“I would have made due without you,” he said as he reached out for his child that went to him easily—the Dark Lord looked putout having to give away his hatchling so soon. “But since I am stuck with you…” he finished nodding towards Harry; the clear and only reason why he would give into the Dark Lord for anything.  
Ari didn’t care that Evan really meant it, he was pleased to have Evan back and he would be his again in no time now that the boy had helped him get his foot in the door.  
“I think you are correct: The boy cannot go to Hogwart’s—it’s too big a risk they’ll find out who he is. You are also correct that we need to leave. We can do so tonight. You and Harry can help me get better—we’ll build an new empire together and prepare for our next strike against Dumbledore and his army!”  
Evan had committed to serving the Dark Lord—his mark was forever tattooed on his forearm—they might as well leave tonight. It was just…dear Hades…Evan was going to miss the home he and Harry had become a family in—when had he become a sentimental sap?  
The Dark Lord must have been able to read his thoughts from his face. “You will keep the home, Evan. We’ll come back to visit from time to time,” he promised tucking a lock of hair behind his ear. Evan stiffened. 

“Very, well. Allow me to pack a few things for Harry and we’ll be off.”  
Ari held out his arms for the boy he was fast considering his, Evan yanked him out of reach. “I don’t think so—you need rest.”  
Ari laughed. “Alright, Evan. But you will have to trust me with him at some point.”  
“Perhaps…but not today.”  
Though Evan was sorry to leave the small Muggle bungalow, he was happy to be back at the Manor. He hadn’t been back in years only pulled to the property for Death Eater meetings in the recent past. He had given it over to the Dark Lord to have for his use as he travelled and performed his own nefarious acts in the Dark Lord’s name. It was the house he grew up in and he had missed it.  
First matters first, he requested Ari include him in the wards, so he could come and go as he pleased from the home and be able to return back to it.  
“Of course, my Evan.”  
He knew that tone of voice and that the Dark Lord did not give anything for free. “What do you want in return?” He sighed. He needed this and would pay a high price for it. The Dark Lord knew.  
“You.”  
“Fine. One night,” he negotiated.  
Ari narrowed his eyes. “I want more than one night for such a prize. Since you would like free access, I also want free access—to you, whenever I want,” he stated redundantly, so there would be no misinterpretation.  
“You want a whore? I’m sure the Rosier vaults can fund such a venture.”  
“I don’t want a whore. I want you.”  
“You want me to be your whore.”  
“Call it what you like, but that is my price,” he said remaining firm knowing he held all the cards on this one.  
“Fine. You will have free access to my body—but we are not together, we are not in a relationship.”  
“That is fine. I do not wish a relationship.”  
“You seemed to want a relationship before—when another man looked my way, he somehow ended up dead afterward.”  
“Coincidence.”  
“Right. So you won’t mind me having other lovers as well?”  
“No,” he grit out. “So long as I am not here. I will not suffer watching you with another when I am home, am I understood?”  
“Perfectly, my Lord.” Evan would make sure to have many lovers while the Dark Lord was away and leave plenty of evidence of his exploits. He knew it would bother ‘Ari’ and ‘The Dark Lord’ both and he would enjoy it.  
They performed the changes to the warding that night.  
“Put Harry in the nursery, my Evan.”  
“Don’t be ridiculous. He’s never slept alone and he never will unless he asks he to.”  
“You let that boy have far too much control. There are going be changes…”  
“He will not sleep alone—especially not his first night in a strange place.” 

After arguing back and forth for an hour, or so, the Dark Lord conceded to a bed in the anteroom of Evan’s chambers, while they partook in…adult activities…and would be moved back to Evan’s bed immediately following. He tried to get the Dark Lord to allow Harry a little time to adjust to their new home before he was forced to leave him alone for any amount of time, no matter how short, but the Dark Lord would not be denied.  
Evan rocked Harry in the chair they’d brought into Evan’s set of rooms from the Nursery across the hall that had been the Rosier family nursery for centuries until all of the Rosier’s died out leaving only Evan… and now Harry.  
“You’re going to have a little sleep in your very own bed then Daddy will come get you a chroì.”  
“Harry sleeps with Daddy,” Harry told him firmly.  
“Yes,” Evan sighed. “Harry sleeps with Daddy—I will come get you, Daddy promises.”  
Satisfied with the promise, Harry closed his eyes and let himself drift off to sleep. Evan laid him on the bed with a kiss and tucked him in reminding himself it wouldn’t be long and he would have Harry tucked under his arm again.  
He went to join the Dark Lord in the bedroom.  
“Come, my Evan. I want you on all fours,” Ari said without any ceremony. He wanted to be in Evan’s bed for one reason. With Evan in position, he raked his fingers along the naked, creamy bottom and along his back. “This won’t be gentle,” he warned and he wasn’t. He did take the time to loosen him, so he wouldn’t damage him, but he slammed into Evan with fierce possession wanting to own every bit of what he couldn’t have.  
After several intense orgasms, Evan and Ari lay panting and Evan could not help the small smile on his face. The Dark Lord had always been an excellent lover; even in his weakened state, he did not disappoint. If anything, he had more vigor afterward, like sex empowered him.  
“That was quite good my Lord, I’m glad you talked me into it.”  
“Ari… please call me Ari—at least in bed if nowhere else.”  
Evan reached out a hand and placed it on his chest. “Ari…”  
That was when Harry began screaming—he was having a nightmare. Evan, still naked, jumped up to go fetch his son; Ari stopped him. “May I?”  
Evan nodded fighting all his instinct telling him to run to his son, but he felt it was the right time to trust his new lover with this task—he knew it was important.  
Ari brought the terrified boy to his Daddy and Harry practically leapt into his arms. Allowing them a few moments, Ari went and fetched a glass of water and returned to the sound of Evan singing to his quieted little boy. Ari—the cocky bastard he was—took the chance while Evan was distracted and slipped in behind him and to Ari’s surprise he didn’t get immediately kicked out. Eventually the three of them fell asleep, tangled together like that.  
Ari gained his strength back quickly, but it did take a number of months. In these months the three spent a lot of time together; in Evan’s opinion, too much time. But his position in the Dark Lord’s court was undeniable and if he didn’t cater to the Dark Lord’s whims, when his power came back, the Dark Lord would make him suffer. 

Killing the Dark Lord wasn’t an option either. At this point, he did have more power and it could be done, but the Dark Lord would come back and then he would be hell bent on vengeance against Evan and worse; his new weakness: Harry.  
The best strategy was to help him and obey him as best he could – Evan was not a very good submissive and preferred to be on the other end of things—in hopes that the Dark Lord would reward him. He knew how the Dark Lord worked and he did believe in positive reinforcement as much as he believed in punishing negative behaviors. Therefore, Evan had choices to make each day. Would he obey and be rewarded? Or disobey and be thoroughly punished? To Evan the answer was not always apparent. It depended on what he wanted.  
Evan had one thing over the Dark Lord and he knew it. As much as the Dark Lord would come back to kill him if he attempted to kill the Dark Lord, Evan knew how much the Dark Lord favored him. He liked Evan’s unruliness. Evan was the only one that fought the Dark Lord on anything, who didn’t roll over and give up, who was not deterred by a little corporal punishment. The Dark Lord had a soft spot for Evan, was fascinated by him even, and if Evan didn’t cross particular lines he could get most of what he wanted out of the Dark Lord in time. He was the Dark Lord’s weakness.  
Evan saw the Dark Lord had invited himself to stay the night with Harry and him. He hadn’t been too distracted to notice, as no doubt the Dark Lord had assumed, but he wasn’t about to disrupt Harry, who was finally falling back to sleep, by getting into an argument.  
Quiet and quick, he slipped out of the room with his little boy that morning and went down to make breakfast with the few supplies they’d brought. Ari came down looking disgruntled.  
“I wanted you this morning. You should have been there for me.”  
“Excuse me if I cannot read your mind. Will there be a schedule written up? Or shall I offer myself to you every hour?” he said putting a plate before Ari, feeling like a housewife and still holding the baby.  
Ari slammed his fist on the table making Harry jump. “I am in no mood for your petulance this morning my Evan.”  
“Ahh, but I am not your Evan. I am your whore and nothing else,” he said seating himself in front of his plate, keeping Harry on his lap.  
Ari watched them, anger blazing wanting to lash out at Evan for his disobedient tongue, but he knew other ways of punishing his unruly pet. “Put Harry in his own chair my Evan,” he said smugly and ignoring Evan’s comment, which implied another thing all its own. “He will not eat in your lap from this moment forward.”  
It was a way of punishing Evan, yes, but it also punished Harry. He knew lamenting to Ari on the unfairness of it all would be a waste of time; so he did the only thing he would never do for anyone but Harry: He begged. “I apologize my Lord. I should not have said such an ill-mannered thing. Please don’t punish me in that way.”  
“Actions have consequences my Evan,” Saying ‘my Evan’ again to drive the message home that Evan was both very much his and that despite Evan’s feelings on the matter he would continue to declare so openly. He was also telling Evan he would not change his mind. He put his fork down, crossed his arms and waited for Evan to do his bidding. 

“Fine. But I hate you.”  
This did not anger Ari; it made him smile.  
Evan pried Harry away from him and set him in a chair next to him only to have Harry look at him with those sad green eyes that began crying silent tears. He knew who was responsible though; he looked to Ari.  
Now it was Evan’s turn to smile. He could deal with the boy’s crying, if he could bare it.  
“That’s enough now, Harry. You’re a big boy—it’s high time you ate on your own anyway.”  
Harry sniffled. “Daddy feed me,” he said to Ari. It wasn’t a question, he was telling Ari what usually happened with the implication he did not feel the need for a thing to change.  
Ari picked up his fork squeezing it to death. Evan moved his plate over to Harry; not hiding his happiness over the stress the Dark Lord was under at Harry’s tears.  
“Of course Daddy’s going to feed you little one. I only said you must sit in your own chair. That is all.”  
Harry relaxed minutely. Evan couldn’t hold it in any longer; he laughed. He knew exactly what the Dark Lord had meant even if it was true that was all he had said.  
“What is so funny?”  
Evan spooned a bite into the very putout little five-year-old. “You’re wrapped around his finger.”  
“I am not.”  
“Too.”  
“Not.”  
“Too.”  
They had regressed to fighting like someone of Harry’s age. They both realized it in the same instant and laughed together.  
“Maybe a little, but he’s very dear isn’t he?”  
“I think so,” Evan said proudly.  
“I think he’ll be the death of me… again.”  
Things fell into a groove. They ate together, played together and as often as Ari could manage it they fucked together (minus Harry of course). Harry got used to falling asleep in the anteroom each night, and even playing alone in the nursery when Ari desired Evan during the day.  
For the most part, their system had worked, but one matter of discord between Evan and Ari came up over sex when Harry would call for Evan in the middle of a ‘session’ and Ari would forbid Evan to leave to take care of Harry and other times when Harry would walk in on the two of them (they never locked and warded the door in case Harry did need to find them in the event of an emergency) and Ari would tell Harry to ‘sit and wait a minute; he was almost done with his father’.  
It angered Evan to no end.  
“I agreed to be your whore, but not to enlighten my son to this fact before his very eyes!”  
“He doesn’t know our…situation, for all he knows we are two men in love.” It did not bother Ari. He looked at sex from an entirely different perspective than Evan did. Sex was just sex. An act of love, or lust, or need between two parties—how could it be wrong for a child to witness such beauty, especially between his parents?  
Evan was outraged. He completely disagreed, but he had little say in the matter.  
For Harry’s part, it didn’t seem to bother him. He would either stay and busy himself with something in the room, or leave and wait in the anteroom.  
“But you remember we are not two men in love, yes?”  
“Well not two men…”  
“Don’t even hint at it! You do not love me. You love power.”  
“Can’t I love both?”  
“I only love Harry.”  
“Harry will grow up one day and want a life of his own. What then?”  
“You will allow that no more than I will.”  
“No. I suppose not in the usual way, no I wouldn’t… he will be known as the Dark Prince after all. There are certain limitations that come with that title.”  
“The Dark Prince?”  
“Yes—he is my hatchling.”  
“You’ve known the boy for a few months.”  
“Have you not told me repeatedly you loved this boy after a mere second?”  
He had not said that in so many words; didn’t make it any less true though, so he supposed Ari could have fallen for the boy, he just didn’t think the Dark Lord could fall for anyone and no, he did not believe all the Dark Lord’s hints at loving him.  
“Fine. But do not forget that he is my son.”  
“I will not forget, my Evan. Now put the baby in the nursery. I need to be in you.”  
By the time Harry reached his sixth birthday, the Dark Lord had also reached his full powers. He had lost the snake-like appearance many months before and grew handsomer and handsomer as the days went on. Evan hated his attraction to him and to make matters worse, he had to fuck him several times a day—it made it hard to keep perspective. The man was smooth, firm and was undeniably incredible in bed. What? With that huge dick of his, it made it impossible for him not to be good at sex. He didn’t have to do much and he could have Evan moaning and screaming his name.  
His attraction grew to like. He actually liked the Dark Lord. What would be next? Would he get jealous the next time Ari decided to go? As he most certainly would leave… He had much work to do if he was going to begin an uprising.


	10. Chapter 10

“But why must you go, Pharaoh?” Harry had begun calling Ari Pharaoh only recently, after Evan had read him a book on Egyptians Kings.   
Harry had said, “That looks like Papa, Daddy.”   
The question shocked him both because he had never heard Harry call Ari anything other than ‘his snake’ and well… Ari a Pharaoh?  
But after thinking about it a moment, he supposed he couldn’t deny it, Ari was kind of like a Pharaoh: He was powerful in the same ways a King was, more even.   
“That man in the picture is a Pharaoh, Harry.” And come to think of it—it did look an awful lot like Ari.   
Ari walked in behind the two. He wore nothing but a black smoking jacket and was clearly looking for Evan; he wanted more sex. “That is me… or was me. Yes. I was Pharaoh once.”   
“That picture says it’s from the eighteenth dynasty! Not to mention it is a drawing, of a hieroglyph, how could it be you?”   
“Yeessss….” Ari said ambiguously.   
“You were a Pharaoh, Papa?”  
“Why is he calling you Papa?”  
“Yes, little one.” He reached down to pick Harry up and Evan almost died of shock when he hugged Ari.   
“You’re still a Pharaoh? Are you not, Papa?”  
“Of course I am,” he told Harry arrogant as ever.   
Since that night he had called Ari, Pharaoh and Pharaoh stood for many things: Lord, King and most important, Papa.   
“Pharaoh has to work, little one. You will have your Daddy to stay with.”   
“I’ll miss you.”   
In the morning he was gone. 

Two months later: 

“Mmmmhhhmm…. That was very good my Pet.”   
“Yes, Master. May I fetch your son for you?”  
At least he knew not to object to Harry sleeping in the bed with them, but for him to go as far as to assume that anyone would be retrieving Harry aside from him? The violence in the air was deafening, when he slapped the beautiful man across his face.   
“Never ask that again,” Evan said in a cool, quiet voice that hissed with menace.   
“Yes, Master. I’m sorry Master,” the younger man whimpered.   
He walked into the anteroom to fetch Harry; it was just gone midnight. He picked the boy up carefully, so as not to wake him. Harry was growing, strong and getting heavy—Evan might have to start using a feather-light charm. He hated that his little boy was getting bigger and wished he could always stay a little boy.   
He was almost home-free, had Harry in his grasp without disrupting his sleep, until someone else did. 

“FAMILY, I’M HOME. COME GREET PAPA!!” The asinine fool shouted. What was he thinking coming home at such a time of the night and shouting like that? Though on second thought, it would have been far worse for Ari to slip quietly into bed with him, only to discover one of his many pets.   
After so much sex with the Dark Lord, Evan could not go back to how things had been in the beginning with Harry—he needed a lover for his sexual needs only.   
Harry opened his eyes; Evan realized he had to get his current pet out of his bed. “Shit!”   
“Daddy…” Harry whined.   
“Go back to sleep, Baby.” He walked into the room and set Harry on the bed, but Harry sat up rubbing the sleep from his eyes rather than settling back down. “Curse that man!”   
“What man, Master?”  
Shit—he’d already forgotten about him again.   
“Patrick,” he began seriously. “You have to leave, now.” He shoved a robe towards Patrick and pulled him to the window.   
“You want me to leave out the window?”  
“It is not the way I prefer, no, but if you do not he’ll kill you.”   
“Who? Are you married?”  
“No. It’s complicated.”   
“Oh, alright.”   
“Good. You can crawl to the edge of the roof and shimmy down the drainpipe. It should hold you.” The entire manor was reinforced with various spells, one of which did not allow the place to deteriorate.   
“Alright, well floo me.” He gave Evan a kiss good-bye just as the Dark Lord walked into the room to see.   
“Evan?”  
“Ari?”  
“What is the meaning of this?”  
“Patrick, go!”   
“No, I don’t think he’ll be going anywhere. Avada Kedevera!” He shouted with more might than Evan had seen him use in a while, at the younger man. Patrick fell the ground dead (Evan was sure). Evan instinctually ran to Harry and pulled him into his arms arming himself with his wand in the process.   
“Leave! Leave now you jealous murderer!” He brandished his wand.  
“Jealous?” He did not deny the murderer accusation. “I believe I warned you of what would happen if you were to keep lovers in plain sight of me.”   
“You did no such thing! You warned not to keep them while you weren’t home and I have abided that rule. You haven’t been here the past two months with no word I might add!”  
“Oh! Oooh C’mon Evan! Is that was this is about? Are you acting out because you’ve missed me?”  
“Most certainly not!”   
“I think you are. That’s the only possible reason you’d take another lover; there can’t be one better than me.” 

“You Arrogant Prick!”  
“The baby! Watch your language Evan.”   
“That’s interesting coming from you. He who doesn’t mind letting the baby watch while you cum inside my ass!”   
“Stop this right now, Evan. I why know you’re upset, but…actually…no I don’t know why. I should be the one upset—I come home after two long months of missing my family to find another man sneaking out your window.”   
“You and I were never in a relationship, I am your whore and that is all. We are not a family, we were never a family.”   
“Harry considers me his Papa, his Pharaoh. Speaking of, come give Pharaoh a hug.”   
Evan held the boy secure to him. “Why are you here, Ari?”  
“I am home now to see my family for a bit,” he explained. “Before Papa’s got to go back to work,” he told Harry specifically.   
Evan felt a tug on his long, hair. “May I Daddy?” Evan couldn’t say no to the big green eyes looking up at him, so he released the boy to go to his Pharaoh (he would not refer to Ari as Papa).   
Harry ran to him and jumped into the beautiful man’s arms as Ari lifted him to his chest. “I missed you Pharaoh. Daddy isn’t as happy when you’re not here.”   
“Is that so?” Ari said smugly looking straight at Evan.   
“He’s just a child—he doesn’t know what he’s talking about.”  
“Yes, but he is our child, which means he is clever and intuitive,” Ari said as any proud parent would bouncing his little boy who was smiling at him.   
Evan cleared his throat. “Back to your monumental jealousy…”  
“If you don’t want your lovers killed then I suggest you get better at hiding them.”   
“Is that how it is to be?”  
“Yes.”   
Evan knew that with the Dark Lord’s powers back to full strength, he had little he could do against his decisions—especially this one. The Dark Lord had always desired Evan and it drove him crazy that Evan would not give himself over willingly.   
“And now, without further adieu, I would like to erase that man from your body. Harry, go lie down in your bed, Pharaoh will come get you in a couple hours.”   
“No! I will not let you fuck me!”   
“Go. Now, little one.”   
It wasn’t often Harry obeyed a command from Ari without conferring to his father first, but the tone in Ari’s voice wasn’t one Harry would dare disobey. He scurried off with a worried look to his father, but made sure to shut the door behind him as he left.   
Ari approached the bed humorless. He was no longer amused with Evan’s antics and he intended for Evan to pay for them.  
“You misunderstand the game, my Evan. I own you—you gave yourself to me,” he began underlining his point by making the tattoo on Evan’s arm shimmer in a wave of black silver.   
Evan could not disagree with that; he nodded.   
“And I am not pleased to find that you have disobeyed me,” he added. 

It did cross Evan’s mind to repeat the exact words the Dark Lord had spoke that day in relation to their conversation about lovers, but since he had already repeated such events not five minutes ago, he doubted saying them again would do much good. Ari made the rules as he went along and he punished you for them whether you were aware of them or not.   
In truth, one could predict what Ari would like and would not like. Evan knew the Dark Lord would not like him taking other lovers, but it didn’t stop him. He was set on proving to Ari (and himself) that they were not in a relationship.   
Instead he went with, “As if you have not taken other lovers while you’ve been away.”   
“Yes, but only because I couldn’t have you. It was you I wanted and you I desired. I must have killed at least ten men who looked similar to you, but failed to produce the same result, thus they paid for their crime.”   
“What crime would that be?”  
“Impostering you.”   
“Do you realize how ridiculous you sound? That’s not even a word!”  
“Alright, fine. It was my temper. You should travel with me, so I may have access to you as I like.”   
“Need I remind you we talked about this and decided it wouldn’t be best for Harry?” In actuality, Evan had performed his most elaborate scheme upon schemes to get the Dark Lord to arrive at this conclusion. He did not want to bring Harry to the places the Dark Lord kept company, but he doubted the Dark Lord would care much.   
“Yes. Remind me why I care?”  
“Because I care.” Evan was treading close to the danger zone, the zone where feelings lay. He rarely treaded these waters, or used these measures, but desperate times and all.   
“Dammit! Fine, but I am still punishing you for all of it: Not being there, allowing me to catch you with another man… and anything else I can think of. Then I will erase that man from your body by pounding my cock, so deep into you—you will feel it for days long after I am gone.”   
Ari worked Evan over that night. He used a fine leather, horsetail whip to peel the skin from his back and thighs and made Evan apologize and repeat over an over his misguided actions. The Dark Lord in a jealous fit was not to be messed with. Evan followed his every order and allowed the Dark Lord to do with him as he pleased.   
“Get to work on that,” he said viciously as he unzipped his cock from his trousers. “And when you’re finished you can bend straight over the bed and beg me to fuck you. If you are lucky, perhaps I will—if you are unlucky, I’m pulling out my whip again to work on your front.”   
Evan wasn’t worried. The Dark Lord could barely resist him when they were in contact everyday. He’d been away for two months trying to appease his sexual desire for Evan with mediocre look-a-likes. It wouldn’t take long to convince Ari to fuck him.  
When the Dark Lord was finished with him hours later, Evan donned his black, silk robe with trembling hands. Ari passed him a glass of water.   
“I don’t like doing that to you, my love. Please obey me in the future.” 

Despite his weakened state, Evan snapped the glass of water from his hand and guzzled it down. “Do not call me my love you Bastard and fetch me my son.”   
Ari was always calm and regretful in the aftermath of his jealous rages and was happy to bring Evan whatever he wanted. Ari brought the sleeping boy back to Evan and Evan ignored immense pain to cuddle his heart. Ari wrapped his body around the back of the boy since Evan’s back was a mess and there they slept the last couple of hours left till dawn.  
Ari taught Harry how to deal with his father’s wounds since he knew Evan would not want him to do it. He had some salve he’d acquired on his travels. It wasn’t Severus’s quality, but close. It would have to do. He needed Evan well enough they could talk.   
In the months Ari had been gone, Evan had allowed Harry to sit on his lap through meals again and Ari was not pleased with this development. Obviously his punishment had done nothing to instill obedience in either member of his family; that would have to be addressed as well.   
This time he ordered Harry, “Harry, get off your father’s lap this instant, or I will personally spank you and I assure you it will not be pleasant.”   
Harry still looked to his father for conformation, even after an order like that and Evan nodded. He moved to the chair.   
“The correct response is ‘yes Papa’ or ‘yes Pharaoh’. Say it.”   
“Yes, Pharaoh.”   
“Good, boy. You see Evan that is what I would like from now on.”   
“What are you up to now, Ari?”  
“You will train him like you train your… pets,” he ground out the last word in attempt to control his jealousy.   
Evan’s outrage was only slightly subdued by his still aching limbs. “He is my son, not a pet. I will not do this.”   
“You will, or I will and I will not be nearly as kind as you will be. So you may choose, but in the end I will have my way.”   
“To what end?” Were the only words Evan could get through his angry lips.   
“Insurance. There is a war upon us. I cannot not take the chance Harry will fall to their side. He will be a powerful wizard; we need him. He needs to be trained.”  
“He will not fall to their side!”   
“You cannot make such a promise, but we can take extra precautions to make sure he remains loyal to us.”   
“There are other ways of training him.”   
“No. Not like you, or I can train a submissive, they are literally putty in our hands. I need him completely obedient. I also require you to perform other kinds of training with him: I need him proficient in both light and dark arts, I want him trained as a Dark Prince for war.”  
It spoke a great deal as to where Ari felt Evan’s true loyalty lied and to how he felt for Evan.   
“If I do this, you will leave us alone.” Evan knew Harry was already obedient to him and he wouldn’t have to punish Harry often to get him to the level of abjection the Dark Lord was requesting. He would be the better, kinder choice in comparison to the Dark Lord. 

Of course there was always the choice to give him up, to find a nice set of parents for him, but the end result would be the same. No one could protect him from then Dark Lord better than Evan. In some else’s home, even Dumbledore’s, Harry would be a sitting duck.   
Ari laughed. “This not a democracy, or a negotiation. I am ordering you as your Lord; my will shall be done. For the record, you and Harry are mine—I will never leave you alone.”  
Damn it! This was not supposed to happen. When he signed up to participate in world domination, he didn’t think that the maniac would become obsessed with him. Evan had little power against Ari, he had less power when he resisted.   
“Please, Ari. Don’t make me do this.”   
“I love hearing you beg, Darlin’.”  
“I’ll beg whenever you like for as long as you like. Please don’t involve Harry in your schemes.”   
“I have to, love.”   
The casual way he dictated Harry’s life infuriated Evan. “If you do this, I will never forgive you, this I promise.”   
“You will in time, Darlin’. We have forever.”  
“You have forever. I will die one day then I will be released from you.”   
“Wrong again,” Ari said suspiciously.   
“What do you mean ‘wrong again’?”  
“I have made you immortal, like me. You cannot die… well, not for long anyway. You will forever be young and beautiful and most importantly mine. I plan to make you my consort eventually.”   
“Immortal? How did you… no, never mind, I don’t even want to know. But I would like to know how you continually seem to forget that I do not feel for you what you feel for me. I do not want to be your consort, Ari. Please give me my freedom. I do this terrible thing for you and you leave us be.”   
“Hmmmm… no. Not in a million years, which we have by the way. Furthermore, I can see the two of you cannot follow my influence while I am away,” he looked pointedly at the boy now sitting in his own chair. “I will be exerting my dominion of this household in more aggressive ways, beginning with: If I ever see Harry sitting on your lap at a meal time again, I will punish Harry severely and I will make you watch, Evan. Am I understood?”  
“Yes, my Lord,” Evan said to taunt the man whose destruction he would somehow figure how to make come about.  
Ari stayed for only two weeks that time, making use of Evan’s body more than usual—Evan’s pain of no consequence to the Dark Lord, Evan should know not to tempt his anger.   
Ari had detailed for Evan what he wanted from Harry and how he was to achieve it. Some of it was in line with what Evan wanted from Harry and other things were… well Evan hoped Harry would forgive him someday. It was the only choice Evan could make where Harry had any hope, bleak, as it seemed. He would never be released from the Dark Lord’s clutches, but perhaps Harry would.   
Harry was of course not to know that this was Ari’s idea and Evan was to make it seem that this was simply how he parented, that their relationship was normal, even—not that much of it was to begin with. Evan had never had it diagnosed, but he was sure Harry suffered from posttraumatic stress due to the torture the Muggles had made him suffer.   
Speaking of which—he would make good use of those Muggles.   
“Just one question for you my Lord. Harry was present the entire time you suggested this cockamamie scheme. Do you plan to obliviate the knowledge from him?”  
“Of course not. That would ruin him. He’s just a little boy—he won’t understand the conversation we’ve just had.”   
Evan knew better and was glad for it. But he would let the Dark Lord live by his own ignorance.


	11. Chapter 11

3 Years later: 

The Dark Lord was impressed—though he was often impressed with Evan’s efforts—this time Evan had outdone himself. He had visited periodically over the past three years, but his own efforts had kept him too busy for him to be home often.   
“Come see, Pharaoh Harry.”   
The boy knelt on the floor next to Evan who sat on the sofa holding a long leather, riding crop. Harry did not move a millimeter, least not as far as Ari could see, but Evan had the crop out in an instant landing it hard into his shoulder. That must have hurt, but the boy barely winced and remained staring at the floor.   
“Anxious to see Pharaoh are we my Harry?”  
“Yes, Father,” he said honestly, not daring to hide anything from Evan.   
“But you did not ask, did you?”  
“No, Father.”   
“You know what that means.”  
“Yes, Father.”   
“What? What does it mean?” Ari asked completely left out of the loop.   
“Come, now,” Evan said to Harry without answering the Dark Lord.   
Evan was quick to divest the boy of his trousers and pants and bent him over his knee. Ari lost count of the sharp, slaps that landed to each cheek turning them a nasty shade of red. Harry was silent at the beginning of the spanking, but as it progressed, he could not hold still. His legs kicked a little and the skin on his buttocks quivered in anticipation of Evan’s violent hand. He could hear Harry’s crying, but the spanking didn’t stop.   
Not once did the boy beg, Ari noticed.  
Finally, Evan decided the punishment had been fulfilled and he let the crying sniffling boy up.   
“I am sorry Father, for my deplorable behavior. I know better. Thank-you for correcting me,” he said sincerely.   
Was this really happening? Even the Dark Lord thought Evan a bit harsh—he told him so.   
Evan’s response was nein. “He knows better. Harry, to the corner please, keep your pants down.”   
Harry did not delay.   
“I mean, I am happy to see how obedient he is…”  
“There is only one way to do this, would you like me to stop?”  
“No…”   
“Then I suggest you defer to me if you don’t want to get him in trouble. He has a particular weakness for you.”   
Ari could still hear Harry trying not to sniffle in the corner. He spied out of the corner of his eye, Harry’s red bottom that Evan had spanked him quite thoroughly; he must be sore.   
“May I comfort him?”

“I think not. He has ten more minutes then I will comfort him and you may greet him, but you cannot comfort him. Only I should do so after a punishment; it will be too confusing if you do it,” he told the Dark Lord quietly.   
It was a long ten minutes, but finally Evan called Harry. Harry seemed to know what to do. He re-adjusted his clothes and knelt before his father with a swipe to his eyes to take away the last of his tears. He looked to the ground; Evan ran a hand through his son’s chestnut hair.   
“I expect better from you my Harry. You paid the consequence admirably and you are forgiven.”  
“Thank-you, father,” Harry said in a much stronger voice than Ari expected, but the underlying anxiousness was there—it was clear he thought he’d lost his father’s love.   
“Come see Daddy, Harry.”   
Harry leapt into his father’s arms crying and acting much different than he had moments earlier.   
“I’m sorry Daddy… sorry… sorry. Please forgive me.”   
Evan hugged and soothed him in a firm voice. “Everything is okay, a chroì. I already said you were forgiven and I meant it. You are my good, good boy.”   
It took a couple minutes of soothing, but when it was done it was done.   
“Take your position my Harry.” And he did on the floor; next to his father’s calve.   
The Dark Lord swallowed.   
“Now,” Evan said as jovial as you please. “Shall we try that again?”  
When Ari said nothing, Evan prompted him cruelly injecting all the hate he had for the Dark Lord into his words. “Well, ask me if you may greet him.”   
He didn’t dare refuse that voice. “Evan, may Harry come to sit on my lap?”  
“Go greet Pharaoh, Harry.”   
Harry did immediately, like nothing had happened. He ran to Ari’s arms and jumped into them. Ari settled Harry onto his lap and Harry rested against his chest like always. “You were away a long time, Pharaoh,” Harry commented sweetly.   
Evan allowed them to visit until the Dark Lord asked if he could speak with Evan alone.   
“I want you to meditate in your room until I come fetch you. Is that understood my Harry?”  
“Yes, Father,” Harry said before scampering off.   
“You have questions for me, I take it?”  
“Yes. His own room? Since when?”  
“He needed his own room for meditation.”   
“Meditation?”  
“Yes. It’s subspace,” Evan snapped. “I tell him it is meditation.”   
“He can get there himself—without your help?”  
“He can now. I’ve taught him of course—you did say I was the best and I am—unfortunately and I still hate you for this in case you were keeping track of how long it takes me to forgive you. After that, maybe I can begin forgiving you for making me immortal.” He didn’t yell a single word of it, but somehow it frightened Ari to the core—which was new, Ari did not fear anything. He decided to tread carefully with this new Evan. 

“And perhaps you shouldn’t have told me. Maybe I won’t care about how many times I have to die, so long as I kill you.”   
“Stop being, so dramatic and tell me more about Harry.”  
Harry was now the perfect submissive, only Harry didn’t really know it. Evan presented it as a new way he had to be good for his Daddy. Evan did it in his own way to preserve some of Harry—he would not break his son, if the Dark Lord expected that, he could take Harry now and well… shit… he couldn’t die now, but he’d want to.   
“No. No… I’m more than pleased with how you’ve done things. I… this cost you; I can see that. I owe you a reward for this Evan. What do you wish?”  
“None of the things I wish for can be granted,” he said and paused for a long time, but Ari did not speak as he sensed there was something else Evan would say. He was right. “There is one thing you can give me.”   
“Anything. Name it.”   
“Freedom. I will still serve you, but not as your whore.”   
“Except that,” he said with his arms crossed, his moment of feeling sorry for Evan long passed now that he’d heard his heart’s desire and not liked it one bit.  
“There’s nothing else I want,” he said gritting his teeth.  
Another long silence passed. “I will give you a break, but you are mine Evan. Do not forget it. Two years…”   
“Ten.”   
“Three.”   
“Five.”   
“Four.”   
“Fine, four,” Evan agreed. “Now, get out.”   
The Dark Lord left in a swirling of robes with his dark red eyes blazing and Evan did not see him for four years.


	12. Chapter 12

Four years later: 

“Good job a chroì. Father is very proud of you.”   
“Thank-you, Father,” Harry beamed; he liked nothing better than his father’s praise.   
“Let’s get you ready for bed then—tomorrow is another long day, we have much to do.”   
“You say that every night, Father.”   
“Because every night it’s true,” Evan smiled at his son. He loved the young man he was growing into, but sometimes, he missed the little boy that used to sit on his hip while he did everything. Evan ran a hand over Harry’s head. “Let’s go, my Harry.”   
Harry still slept in Evan’s room. Harry’s room was used for meditating, but at night it remained largely unused. Harry could not let go of sleeping with his father. Evan had tried every punishment he was willing to do to Harry, but each night Harry was willing to accept the consequences for slipping in beside his father and whatever lover slept with him. Evan couldn’t punish him for it any longer; especially when he wanted Harry to sleep right where he could keep two eyes on him. Evan gave up trying to get Harry to sleep in his own bed and decided the Dark Lord could suck it if he didn’t like Harry there. Besides, he had only said no Harry on his lap during meals and had not specified this instance—and that’s what he would remind the Dark Lord if he was foolish enough to pursue this line of questioning.   
Evan sat Harry on the bed and began pulling of his shoes and socks. He changed Harry into his pajamas, brushed his teeth and settled him into Evan’s bed. Harry was old enough to do these things himself, but he seemed to want Evan to do it and since it technically fell in line with types of care one might provide for a sub, Evan would do it for his son until he objected. Evan got himself ready and crawled in beside Harry.   
There had been many changes since the Dark Lord had rewarded Evan with this ‘break’. Since he knew he would have extended time without the Dark Lord, he was able to train Harry in such a way that Harry and him could have more of the Father-son relationship they enjoyed before the Dark Lord’s orders. He’d never out right said to Harry that the orders had come from his Pharaoh, but he suspected Harry knew and he nurtured that philosophy in such a way it was a silent understanding that they practiced what they did for his benefit and the benefit of the public.   
Harry had been his since he’d picked him up off the street. He didn’t need all of this other nonsense to win Harry’s loyalty.  
Some of the things he taught Harry were for his survival and he would keep as many of those from the Dark Lord as he could. Harry learned quickly and he was growing into his powers. Perhaps Harry would someday be more powerful than the Dark Lord even. Evan hoped. Just because he would be chained to the Dark Lord for eternity, it didn’t mean Harry had to be in this life.   
But Evan didn’t count his chickens.   
The Dark Lord had a soft spot for Harry in a different way than he always had for Evan. It was a fatherly affection that even Evan had to admit was sweet. When Harry was little, they had spent long hours playing and reading together. Harry would ask him to be a snake and he would transform in an instant and they would have private conversations in parseltongue.   
Harry had an equal affection for his Pharaoh. Pharaoh was very special to him, enough that as much as Evan selfishly wanted him out of their lives, he was glad when the Dark Lord had refused his request to have him gone forever. This short absence (in the scheme of eternity) had affected Harry. He asked for his Pharaoh often and Evan led Harry to believe it was Pharaoh that had left him. But since they kept no lies or secrets between them he couldn’t allow Harry to think that for long. He told Harry one day.   
“I told him I wanted him gone. I’m…sorry a chroì… I needed a break from…”   
“I know Father. You don’t like being his whore and I know you did it for me. Don’t apologize for that, or it will make your sacrifice meaningless and I for one find it most meaningful.”   
He had been ten years old when he’d said all that. Harry’s wisdom and words were astounding for his age. He was often quiet, but when he spoke it was with power.   
Evan was not the type to correct Harry on language others considered offensive if it was used appropriately. Evan would have phrased his role to the Dark Lord in a similar way and he had many times. He did not take offense to the word ‘whore’ and he agreed.   
He ran his hand through Harry’s hair that was long now, to his shoulders as it had been for some years. “You are very meaningful to me a chroì, so it no sacrifice at all and I would do it again.”   
Harry smiled.   
Evan meant every word, but the break had been nice and so it was with great trepidation he anticipated the Lord’s impending arrival. He didn’t know if the Lord would come at the exact stroke of the clock to when he had left, or if hopefully he’d come to his senses and realized that Evan did not want him and would decide to stay away, or in the very least extend his ‘break’.  
Evan should have betted on the former, for it was at the precise moment—same hour, same minute—fours years to the date that he Dark Lord appeared in the home they had shared for so long.   
The Dark Lord looked… terrible.   
“My Lord…”   
“S’looks like… where am I?”  
“Ari… are you drunk?”  
Ari was completely disheveled. His robes awry and wrinkled, his hair longer than before and unkempt. His usually clean-shaven face with a five o’clock shadow… and he was bleeding. All cut up and bruised—how in Hades’s name had anyone hurt him?  
Even his red eyes did not glow as bright.   
“Evan?” He really seemed confused to how he’d got here. “Evan! You found me!” His voice suddenly turned jovial as he recognized Evan’s face.   
Harry knelt on the floor beside the sofa. They were reading a book together and it was tea time as it had been the last time they had seen Ari.   
“And Harry…” he stumbled drunkenly over to his beloved Harry. Harry looked at Evan unsure of how to act.   
“Forget all that now, Harry,” Evan whispered. 

“But…”   
“He’s too drunk to know his head from his arse, all will be fine. Help me get the fool up to bed.”   
Evan did not dare place him in a spare room. The Dark Lord may be drunk now, but Evan was no fool; he would be angry when he sobered.   
Evan could have given Ari a sobriety potion, but he would not cater to the Dark Lord’s stupidity. Besides, it would give him a last opportunity to do something.   
“Slow g’lad you came back t’me… my Evan,” he slurred in a sing-song voice as Harry and him led him to the bedroom. Harry giggled. Evan glared at Harry.   
They laid him down on the bed as Ari mumbled other nonsense; Harry worked on one boot, Evan on the other. Ari’s limbs flopped out like a starfish.   
“D’ere’s a good lad, my hatchling. Yer so big! An…Darlin’…Darlin’…” he called to Evan so Evan would come up from his foot and look him in the eyes.   
“What?” Evan snapped.   
“Yer…beautiful, so beautiful. I love you Darlin’… bin waitin’ t’tell yeh that.”   
Harry laughed again, Evan threw the boot he was holding at Ari and hit him square in the chest.   
“You stupid! Drunken! Lout!” he shouted, ripping his pants from him and Harry knowing better than to stand in the way when his father’s temper flared, moved.   
Evan hated the Dark Lord more. He hated him because he didn’t like the feelings he got at those words. Why couldn’t the Dark Lord be more forthcoming when he was sober?  
Ari had hinted such declarations in the past, but he could never say them. Evan didn’t know that he wanted him to, but he certainly did not want to hear them from him all inebriated!   
“Harry, I think you should leave, so you don’t have to witness me beating your Pharaoh senseless.”   
“Father, don’t. Please.” Once again, Harry begged on behalf of the man he considered a second father. It was the only time Harry begged Evan other than to not be disappointed with him.   
“Why don’t I stay with him? You can… be alone for a bit, get used to the idea him back?” That was Harry’s way of saying ‘calm down’. “Besides, I’m sure you have something to do.”   
Harry was right.  
Evan seared Harry with his eyes as he straightened his robes. “You can get him changed on your own?”  
“I can manage. Yes, Father.”   
“Very, well.”   
When Evan returned hours later, he found the two of them snuggled up together—the Dark Lord snoring loudly. Unable to resist and hating himself for it, he put on his own pajamas and climbed in behind Harry.   
“I’ve got a splitting headache,” Ari complained at breakfast. The three of them slept through the afternoon the day before. Harry and Evan had woken for dinner, but left the Dark Lord passed out on their bed. They joined him again later that evening and finally he’d awoke to an empty bed (Harry and Evan had been up a few hours) and made his way downstairs to the kitchen. 

“Serves you right,” Evan said slightly softened, with only minimal scorn as he placed a cup of coffee in front Ari.   
“This doesn’t look like hangover potion to me.”  
“That’s because it is not, nor do I have any.” It was the truth. Evan did not drink often, so he had no need for such a thing. The only reason he had any sobriety potion lying around was because he had a past lover who’d liked to indulge in the fine wines from the Rosier cellars kept a few and Evan refused to have himself and Harry wake up next to a grouchy, hung over lout.   
He was willing to make an exception in this case.   
Ari groaned, but drank the coffee gratefully. Harry placed a plate of eggs and bacon in front of him smiling. “Why are you all beat up, Pharaoh?”  
Harry sat in his chair to the right of Evan’s.   
“Fighting.”   
“With what? A Hippogriff?”  
“Yes. Several at once actually.”   
“Why on Earth are you fighting Hippogriffs Ari? Drunk even! How foolish!” Evan growled.   
“Why would you care?” he said arrogantly with a clear edge of hurt challenging Evan in his eyes.   
“I don’t.”   
Harry sighed almost imperceptibly. The three ate their breakfast in silence with the two adults trading glares.   
Breakfast over, Harry decided to clear up and leave his parents to their eye dueling. Finally one of them spoke.   
“I assume you’ve come back to claim what you consider rightfully yours,” Evan said ruefully.   
“I’ve already claimed both of you as mine. You’re both mine and only Harry is smart enough to see that.”   
Evan envisioned skinning the Dark Lord’s penis then jamming it into a bottle of lemon juice. He looked to Harry, and Harry cowered. Evan knew it was true without asking.   
“Then you have raped my soul if you have claimed the only thing I love too.” He pulled Harry onto his lap—breakfast was over, he could cuddle Harry, as he liked.   
“He is still yours Evan and I don’t mean that like you think I do. I don’t think Harry could be mine in any other way than what I have with him—not that I’d want it—but he is yours in every way.” He didn’t feel uncomfortable saying these things in front of Harry, both because he was the Dark Lord and he knew Harry knew they were true.   
His words seemed to mollify Evan as he defrosted a little. “Well, what will the plan be now? I’ve received no word in four years.”   
“As was your wish,” he spat offended.   
“My wish was to have nothing to do with you. Not to be left out of the loop as far as the war was proceeding.”   
“Do you not read the Daily Prophet? What about idle gossip when you are out doing your shopping?”

“Don’t be stupid. I hear things, but I cannot rely on them. I would rather hear from one of your sources.”   
The Dark Lord sipped his coffee. “May I have a turn with Harry now? I haven’t seen him since… What have you two been up to in this time?” he looked at their suspiciously comfortable position.   
Evan ushered Harry toward Ari and Ari pulled him onto his lap and his head into his chest almost crushing him. Ari had missed his hatchling.   
Evan went ahead with the explanation he knew would appease the Dark Lord. Most of it was true…  
“So you were able to blend a fatherly bond into all of this… why are you still so angry with me then?”  
“I will not have this conversation with you. What we need to discuss is where are we with the war? I’ve heard nothing of attacks, or anything else. People are business as usual.”   
“I am disappointed then my Evan. You would have seen things if you had looked hard enough. Besides, I have seen the wisdom of your words: it is better to keep Harry in the dark, which also means you in the dark for as long as possible. I assume you are training him?” He asked as he pet Harry’s hair.   
“Yes.”   
“Good. I will be home now, permanently. I shouldn’t have to leave anymore than… three days at a time. I have set up enough operations that they can run with me only popping in from time to time. This break was a great benefit to our uprising even if…”   
“Even if what?”  
Ari sighed. “Never mind. You’re not likely to care anyway. Point is I’m here to stay now. We will be a real family.”   
“Fine, ‘real family’,” Evan mocked. “You should spend some time with your son whom you’ve neglected for the past four years,” he put a finger up to silence Ari when he was about to speak. “Just because I didn’t want to talk with you, doesn’t mean he didn’t—though only Hades knows why.”   
“And what will you do?”  
“I’m going out. Not that it’s any of your business.”   
“It is my business. I am head of this household. No one goes anywhere without my permission.”   
“I am taking a personal day. I’ve single parented for four years now. I think I deserve one day off.” Evan never wanted a day off from his son and he knew Harry would know that, but he was banking on the Dark Lord not knowing. He was simply playing a hand like in a card game, people expected one to tire of certain responsibilities, he was using it to escape so he could tie up a loose end.   
“Fine. You have my permission, but you will be home by dinner.”   
Evan hated the restriction and it would be ignored anyway, so he agreed to it before he swept out of the room. 

AB

Evan popped his mouth off of the younger man’s cock. “This will be our last time Jericho.” He couldn’t bring himself to tell Jericho last night as he had meant to. Jericho must have at least suspected something was up; Evan never showed up without Harry as he had last night.   
“Dark Lord’s back?”  
“Yes. He’ll kill you if he finds out about you.”   
“He can try.”   
Evan admired Jericho’s ambition and smiled.   
“Can I fuck you this time? Since it is our last? I’ve wanted to make love to you a long time. My cock aches to be in you…”   
Evan saw the sarcasm in his eyes and elbowed him in the ribs. “You know better than to love me.”   
He pressed a kiss along Evan’s ear. “Yes. I know. But the heart wants what it wants. Someone said that—Shakespeare I believe.”  
Evan laughed easily. Jericho always made him laugh. “It was Emily Dickenson you ingrate.”   
“I know. I just wanted to hear you laugh and call me an ingrate,” he winked cheekily.   
Evan flipped around and kissed him.   
“So, what do you say my heart?” He blinked up at him with starry blue eyes.   
“If you cease with the sappy, drivel… I’ll consider it.”   
Evan remained for the night and in the morning Jericho was replaced with a note:   
Evan,  
Please forgive me for leaving this note; I hate good-byes,   
so I hope you’re gone when I get back.  
I don’t believe I should say good-bye to you anyways.   
We’ll see each other again.  
Take care of yourself and little Harry.   
Love (and other sappy drivel)  
Jericho   
The Dark Lord looked ready to kill him when he returned home.   
“Where is Harry?”  
“Completing his lessons in the library.”   
“Good. I assume you’ll want to punish me then, let’s get it over with while he does that.”   
“So you disobeyed me on purpose?”  
“I think that was implied, yes.”   
“And you think you shall dictate the terms of your punishment? Oh no, Darlin’, that’s my job.”   
“By all means Ari. Dictate away if that is your wish,” he drawled, bored.   
“I intend to,” he said before he grabbed Evan by his hair and dragged him to the library where Harry studied.   
The blood drained from Evan as he realized what the Dark Lord intended to do to him.   
“Ari, please—not in front of Harry.”   
“Yes, in front of Harry. You deliberately disobeyed me. Disrobe. All of it.”   
“Ari, be reasonable,” he tried once more.   
“If you don’t obey me this instant, Harry will join you in punishment.”   
Evan did not delay after that and unclasped his robes with trembling fingers, not fearing the Dark Lord’s punishment, but Harry watching it all.   
“And you will watch every second, or I will beat your father every night this week until you get it right.”   
“Yes, Pharaoh,” said Harry. Evan expected to hear fear, but all he picked up on was a low-grade menace. Evan’s eyes snapped to Harry who was a half-second away from murdering the Dark Lord—all Evan had to do was say the word. Instead Evan stopped him with a look in his eyes, so Harry stilled himself grinding his teeth and balling his fists.   
Ari proceeded to beat him viciously in front of Harry and fucked him over the desk and on top of Harry’s pile of books.   
All the while Evan wondered things like; could he have loved someone like Jericho if he had met Harry before he had committed allegiance with the Dark Lord? Because it was his perceived love for Harry that made him think he could love at all. Or was this the kind of love he enjoyed? The kind Ari gave him. And did he perhaps goad Ari into these displays?  
When Ari was done and when he was a mess of blood, bruising and semen, he left Evan on the floor storming out on the two of them. Harry rushed to this father’s side.  
“You should have let me kill him Father!”   
With the last ounce of strength he had left, he slapped his son across the face with enough force, he was sure there would be bruising to tell the tale.   
“What have I told you about your Gryffindor foolishness?”  
“To control it Father, but…”   
Evan slapped his other cheek. “You will address me as sir when I am reprimanding you. You’ve forgotten everything I’ve taught you at the sight of a little violence and blood. I am disappointed, my Harry.”   
Now Harry displayed true fear. He did not like Evan to be disappointed in him. He knelt before his father. “Yes, sir. I did forget. I was worried about you.”   
Evan didn’t have much strength left, but he had strength enough—there was something important Harry could learn from all of this, he could take what could easily be a devastating event for a teenage child, and use it as a lesson for future. He gripped Harry’s chin firmly and stood over him.   
“That type of irrationality will get you killed one day. You are not yet strong enough to kill the Dark Lord, idiot child. In one moment you just about ruined everything—everything I’ve tried to give you.”   
Harry’s eyes cried tears he couldn’t hold back, but he kept silent, fearing he’d ruined forever the pride he’d earned from his beloved Father. He’d win it back. He’d be better. Just let him try again. He said all of this with his eyes.   
“You must learn to control you emotions no matter what is going on. Even if you think I am dying, you must keep your head about you and act with strategy. After you killed the Dark Lord, what would you have done then?”  
“I…I…”   
Evan slapped him again and this time it was hard enough to make Harry cry out. 

“I didn’t have a plan for afterword,” he admitted.   
“Exactly. There are times when we must simply act, when strategy and planning are not options available to us—but this was not one of them. You know I can take a simple beating. It is not reason enough to commit such a treason against the Dark Lord.”   
“Yes, sir.”   
“Thirty hours, that is what you will pay for this.”   
Harry would pay any price for his father’s forgiveness. “Yes, sir.”   
“All the while I want you thinking on why I am displeased with you. When the thirty hours are over, I will issue your punishment. Now, come help me to bed.”   
Later, when Evan’s anger died down, he hated the sight of the marks on Harry’s face—the ones he had put there. He did not regret the lesson he felt Harry needed to learn, but perhaps one pattern-breaking slap would have been enough.   
Harry was subdued and obedient as was required when Evan asked him for any amount of hours of penance. He had never earned thirty hours; Harry knew he had really fucked up. The penance was an ongoing meditation and only counted in the hours he was awake. He was to follow Evan like a silent shadow and obey Evan’s orders without response, or question. When Evan stopped to sit down, Harry was to kneel by his feet, even at meal times; Evan would feed him—though Harry preferred this part.  
The Dark Lord didn’t question when he saw Harry’s behavior, he knew these behaviors well, but he was a little surprised to see Harry acting in this way. The surprise did not last long; Evan was the best at what he did—Ari would no longer question his methods, not after all he had witnessed.   
Speaking of his own pet, Evan sat at the kitchen table perfect as you please. He looked a bit stiff, but other than that he looked fine.   
“You did not come to bed, Ari,” Evan stated taking a sip of his tea.   
“I was out last night.” He wasn’t, but he wanted to give Evan the night alone—well the night alone with Harry—to lick his wounds. He was curious as to the change in Harry this morning, he looked a shred away from attempting his murder yesterday.   
He didn’t think anything of Evan’s words until he listened to them again in his mind—had Evan wanted him to come to bed last night?  
“How do you feel this morning, my Evan?”  
“Sore. I will be fine.”   
“I expect more obedience in the future.”   
“Yes, Ari.”  
Who was this new, compliant, Evan? Was he up to something? Most probably.   
After three days, Harry was back to sitting on the chair at the table, but he looked uncomfortable, like sitting might be the source of his grief.   
“Show, Pharaoh, Harry and tell him why,” Evan instructed in a cruel voice.   
Harry’s eyes told Ari that he really didn’t want to do as Evan just asked him.   
“It was not a suggestion, my Harry.”   
Harry hopped out of his seat and turned around, he pulled his trousers and pants all the way down, straight down to his ankles and spread his legs so Ari could see that his buttocks, and thighs (the backs, inner, and outer) were red as holly berries, his backside bore ten distinguishable lines from a cane, Ari knew Evan favored. Harry turned to face front and Ari saw that the front of his thighs were equally red as the rest of his thighs. 

“Father had to punish me,” Harry said the cheeks on his face turning red from embarrassment. “I wanted to kill you for what you were doing to him.”   
Ari stared at Harry flabbergast. All of this was for him?   
“If this is not enough punishment Pharaoh, please allow me to surrender to another at yours or my father’s hand. Otherwise, my life is yours.”   
Harry was begging for punishment in hopes Ari would not kill him. And Evan had ordered Harry to do this? To admit this? He looked to Evan—Evan nodded.   
“Come here my little snake.”   
Harry shuffled towards him and Ari carefully put all his clothing back to rights, so Harry did not have to suffer any more embarrassment. He pulled Harry between his thighs and saw that there were tears there. Ari wiped them away.   
“I think you have learned your lesson, have you not?”  
“I have. I’m sorry. I let my emotions take over—I was worried for my Father, but it isn’t an excuse. I realized afterward that I don’t really want to kill you Papa—I love you with all my heart.”   
Ari surprised everyone by laughing. “I wouldn’t let you kill me a second time little one. And I forgave you once; I can forgive you this. I’m not mad, really.” Once again the Dark Lord displayed the soft spot he had for his hatchling. Evan hoped it would be his undoing.   
“I do require your obedience little one, but I think you’ve paid the price for your folly.” He was pleased to see that Evan had corrected Harry. “You are young yet, and you will make many mistakes before you are grown. Let’s close the book on this chapter, shall we?”  
Evan counted on the Dark Lord’s softness with Harry and he knew he would not kill Harry—besides, he had too many plans for him  
Many nights later, Ari had charmed himself back into Evan’s, well, not good graces, but the same amount of graces he had before all of this nonsense with Evan being mad at him over training Harry.   
Evan did miss sex with Ari, he really was a wonderful lover. But the instance with Harry made him realize something: He lost the firm grip of control he had on his emotions when the Dark Lord ordered him to do anything concerning Harry. He had punished Harry thoroughly for such a grievance in hopes it would one day save him. But how could he ask that of Harry if he didn’t control his own emotions?  
When he took his emotions out of the equation, he began to see Ari’s wisdom in training Harry. If he hadn’t already had Harry trained to such a level of obedience, Harry may have acted on impulse; instead he had looked for Evan’s approval and Evan could stop him and teach him. The Dark Lord might forgive Harry, after seeing him punished, but what would he have taken it upon himself to do to Harry in the moment?  
And though he had instructed Harry to request punishment from Ari, he had given Harry more than he thought he deserved in hopes Ari would not touch him. Ari’s punishments were far worse than anything Evan would ever do to Harry. He would do all he could to prevent Harry ever experiencing what he had many times over.   
After much consideration over all this, he forgave the Dark Lord, he wouldn’t tell Ari that of course. 

Evan behaved himself for a while, but he was getting cabin fever. Ari never wanted him to leave. He wanted the three of them to be a happy little family for as long as they could before they had to go into battle. Evan agreed, but he didn’t think that meant they had to be restricted to the Manor.  
“How about the Rosier property in Paris… we could…”   
“No, Evan. Not enough wards.”   
“Germany then. There are many wards over that property. We could add a few of our own and…”   
“It is far safer here. Stop all this nonsense—you sound like an ill-begotten housewife.”   
“Ill-begotten housewife? Did I hear you correctly?”  
“That’s what I said.”   
“Are you two bickering again?” Harry said as he walked into the parlor. Harry was fourteen now and felt he could read when it was all right to tease his parents. Sometimes he got it right and sometimes he ended up over his father’s knee.   
“Harry Evan Rosier…”   
“Is that my name now? I thought we’d decided on Harry Nagendra Rosier.”   
“I agreed on no such thing. Nagendra! That is entirely too cumbersome.”   
“He already gets to have Rosier from you, he should get a name I picked and I pick Nagendra for Snake because he’s my little snake,” Ari said proudly.   
“No,” he decided firmly. “And Harry that’s two hours and if I hear anymore cheek out of you, I’ll take it out of your hide.”   
“Yes, Father,” Harry said trying to take all of the cheek out, but his father’s anger was funny in this moment and he did it with some difficulty. He knew his father’s anger was because Evan was going stir crazy and Pharaoh wouldn’t allow him to go anywhere. He looked to Pharaoh and silently asked him if there wasn’t somewhere they could go to appease Father before he made them all miserable.   
“I suppose we could spend one night—one night Evan, in Paris. The wards are not as good in Germany as you think. They are not good in Paris, but better than Germany.”   
“What does it matter? When we have to go into battle, we will all be in constant danger. We should get to come and go as we please.”   
“It matters I say it matters.”  
Ari took them to Paris, but Evan wasn’t satisfied. The truth was he hated being restricted. He preferred to be the one in charge; he didn’t like the Dark Lord controlling him.   
He waited until a few nights after Paris and slipped something in the Dark Lord’s night cap. Harry did not wake when he left.   
“I’ve decided to allow you fuck me,” he declared without a hello, how have you been and immediately disrobing as Jericho looked up from his book. Jericho had always been a night owl and Evan had counted on it.   
“Whoa…whoa! Slow down, love.” 

Evan saw Jericho’s scotch on the table. He wasn’t a drinker, not really, but he picked it up and downed it anyway, slammed it back on the table and said, “Well then? Let’s go I haven’t got all night.” 

“No.”   
“What did you say to me?”  
“I said no, scary, bad-ass, Evan. You can eviscerate me if you like, but I am not fucking you. I’ll let you fuck me though. I’d prefer that to the eviscerating…”  
Evan snatched the book out of his hand. “What do you mean no? Years ago you practically begged me, now I give you the chance and you turn me down.”   
“YUPPP! I’m turning you down,” he smirked yanking his book back. “You don’t really want me to fuck you anyway, you just want to get back at Ari for something. I don’t know what, but I’ll bet it has something to do with controlling you. I know you hate giving control to someone else; but you need it Evan. You want to see if you can give it to me, but if I let you, you’ll hate yourself. You’ve never let anyone but Ari top you and you’d like it to stay that way.”   
Evan brandished his wand. “How do you know so much about me? Are you a Legillemens?”  
Jericho held his hands up (one still holding his book) laughing, “No. I’m a, what did you call us again? Oh yeah, Muggle. I’m a Muggle, remember?”  
“A Muggle that knows entirely too much about Magic.”   
“Just because I’m a Muggle, it doesn’t mean I don’t know anything about Magic—there are other forms of magic.”   
“Then you can’t be a Muggle.”   
“I’m definitely not a wizard.”   
It was the same argument they always had with the same ending. Evan sighed.   
“Come, my Evan.”   
Evan went to Jericho and sank into his arms like a much needed drink of water. Though Jericho had never entered Evan, he topped him in every other way. Jericho would describe it as topping from the bottom. Evan was Jericho’s sub like he was the Dark Lord’s, but only Ari received the gift of entering him.   
But Jericho got something else: he was the only one Evan allowed to freely refer to him as ‘my Evan’. The Dark Lord did so without permission.   
Evan cried and told Jericho everything that had happened since he’d seen him last. Jericho said nothing and let him cry. When he was done, Jericho leaned down and kissed him taking his breath away. “I’ve missed you, my love.”  
Jericho’s large, beautiful cock did not enter Evan’s arse, but they did many other things with it. They were back where they started two years earlier and neither sorry for it.   
“How did you know we would see each other again?”  
“Other kinds of magic, love.” 

AB

Evan slipped in by Harry and the Dark Lord did not know of his late night adventures—nor did he know the other six times he’d left to see Jericho, well five and a half. Harry took the opportunity to tell his father that the Dark Lord had commented on his difference in sleep the last time he’d been out. Harry thought Ari suspected his late night adventures. 

“How do you seem to know of my late night adventures?”  
“I’ve woken up some nights and you’re not there. I know better than to go looking for you, but I’m too afraid to fall asleep in case Pharaoh wakes up.”   
“But when I’ve returned, you’re usually fast asleep.”   
“Because I wanted you to be able to fall asleep. I’d always planned on telling you Father—this was the first opportunity I’ve had.”   
“Do you think he knows?”  
“It’s hard to say; I know he is suspicious. Please don’t do it again, Father. I hate seeing you get punished.”   
“You’ve seen me punished many times.”   
“But not like he does when he’s jealous.” Harry also didn’t want Pharaoh to find out about Jericho. He was a constant in their home for their years without the Dark Lord. He cared about Jericho and didn’t want him killed. He didn’t mention it to his father as his father had his own jealousy issues—he didn’t like it when Harry cared about others, he always wondered if Harry still loved him most. If his father asked him a direct question about Jericho, he would not lie or hide the truth, but he didn’t feel that information prudent now. Besides, his father already knew what would happen to Jericho if Pharaoh found out—he didn’t need the reminder.   
Harry didn’t ask for much, so Evan vowed not to go anymore. He didn’t say good-bye this time—Jericho hated good-byes.


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Last Chapter I have finished, but Ch. 14 is almost done!

Even the small bit of information Evan relayed to Lucius was a lot to take in. It had brought up many memories for Evan, some good, some bad and some reprehensible.  
“Well I find I have only more questions, Rosier. I want to hear about he Muggles, but I know you will make me wait.”  
“That I will—it is getting late and I find I will have somewhere to go. I promise you the story on the Muggles tomorrow.”  
Evan got Harry ready for bed; tonight he would go alone.  
“Father, you promised.”  
“Promised what?”  
“That you wouldn’t see Jericho, again.”  
“How did you know I plan to see him?” Evan narrowed his eyes.  
“Because you only get that look in your eyes for two people, and since I know you do not have to deceive Lucius to see Pharaoh, it only leaves one other.”  
“Well I didn’t make such a promise.”  
“Not out loud, but you did just the same.”  
“I miss him. I have to, make sure he’s okay.”  
“Jericho is fine. He could always take care of himself, Father.”  
“I will not be lectured by my son,” Evan said dangerously.  
“I didn’t mean to lecture you, Father.”  
Evan sighed. Harry had a huge capacity to care, but his caring was getting in the way of what he wanted to do. “Just once more, please.”  
His father never begged; Harry knew this; everyone knew this. “If I may come with you.”  
Evan pursed his lips into a line.  
“I know you want to fuck him Father. I will keep myself busy.” His eyes implied that it was nothing he hadn’t seen before, but he didn’t dare say it. He was already treading a thin line.  
“Very, well.”  
Harry smiled; Evan figured him out. “You miss him too.”  
“Yes, Father,” he admitted looking down. Evan gripped his chin gently and turned his face up to look into his eyes.  
“It’s okay, Harry. You may…miss him.” It was something Evan would not have allowed before, but he was learning about love—he had been learning a long time now. 

AB

Evan was nervous over what he would find when he walked in. Would Jericho have someone else? Or worse, would he never want to speak with Evan ever again?  
In hindsight, bringing Harry was a good move: Emotional blackmail. Jericho couldn’t refuse Evan with Harry along—wouldn’t want to disappoint a child, now would we?

Evan almost knocked, but he decided to perform his usual ritual and walk in. But what if the door was locked? He had never locked it in the past—he always left it open for Evan. But it had been so long and… maybe he should just leave… and Harry looks tired anyway… and …  
“Father, just open it,” Harry said.  
“I was about to, thank-you.” He reached out and twisted the knob, his heart beating a million miles a minute—at least he was fairly certain he had one now—and the door opened! He hadn’t locked it! Happy day!  
Heart light now, he walked into the small, Muggle home—though Jericho wasn’t a true Muggle, not really.  
The room was dark; no one was home. How irresponsible! How could Jericho leave his door unlocked in such times! There were uprisers about. Well…he wasn’t going to leave until he wrote Jericho a scathing note about this!  
“Father? What are you doing?” He whispered. “I think I hear Jericho in the bedroom.”  
“In the bedroom?” Okay this was worse; he couldn’t bear to see Jericho with someone else. “We’re leaving, Harry and we’re visiting the Muggles on the way back to Malfoy Manor.”  
But he didn’t move. Instead he stood stalk still and listened to what he could hear from Jericho’s bedroom. It wasn’t his bedroom though, he realized as he listened. Harry was referring to room directly across from them on the first floor that led to Jericho’s study—Jericho’s bedroom was upstairs. His happy feelings began to come back, but they were still mixed with anxiousness.  
“I have to go. I’m expecting someone.”  
That was his voice. He’d missed that deep, masculine voice. But wait; did he say he was expecting someone? At this time of night? That could only mean one thing. Still he listened.  
“If you must know, yes a man.”  
His voice again and now Evan’s suspicions were confirmed, Jericho was expecting a man, or a booty call, or worse a boyfriend. Evan brandished his wand. “Cover the exits Harry. He is expecting a man, we have to stop him.”  
Harry shook his head trying not to laugh. “You’re a man. Maybe he’s expecting you.”  
“Don’t be ridiculous. How would he know we were coming?”  
“Because there’s a gift on the coffee table, it says: ‘To Harry ? Rosier.’ We really should agree on a middle name for me now that the war is over. I’d still like to have Nagendra on the table if I get a say.”  
“You don’t. And your middle name will be Nagendra when I’m cold and dead in the ground. Wait did you say there’s a gift for you?”  
At that moment, the door to the study opened, and Jericho stood there: All six feet seven inches of him. He took up the entire space of the doorframe and stood firm with his arms crossed looking at Evan like he wanted to eat him.  
“Evan, you came,” he said with a relaxed smile on his face. “And Harry too.”  
“Well don’t act surprised! Look at this,” Evan said picking up the gift to wave it at him. “You knew we were coming. Did you always know when I would come?”

“Maybe… Hello Harry! You’re a man now,” he changed the subject immediately. Jericho did not like to answer questions about himself. He told you what he wanted you to know of him.  
“Hi Jericho,” Harry only waved.  
Evan put the gift back down and the room went silent. Jericho stared at Evan and Evan stared at Jericho. Neither made a move, but both ached to.  
It was Evan that broke first. He ran head long at Jericho and Jericho opened his arms. Evan hit Jericho’s torso and wrapped himself around it, burying his head into his chest, sobbing.  
Harry sat down on the easy chair by the sofa and watched the two. He knew Jericho made his father happy and there were few times his father allowed himself to be happy. His father had claimed not to need any other love than Harry’s, but Harry thought his father should have an adult to love and that loved him.  
Pharaoh loved his father and somewhere deep inside, his father loved Pharaoh, but for a reason Harry couldn’t fathom he rarely allowed Pharaoh to love him.  
But with Jericho, he did it more often… every couple of years as it would seem. What was the difference? Did he love one more than the other? Did one frighten him more than the other? Or, even more mind-boggling, were they somehow the same?  
“I’m sorry I was gone so long. I’m sorry I didn’t say good-bye. I’m sorry….”  
“Stop. You know you don’t have to apologize for those things.” He nuzzled his nose into Evan’s and pressed a kiss on his lips that began chaste until Jericho gently pushed his tongue past Evan’s lips and Evan tangled his tongue with Jericho’s. They ended up in a wild kiss that was long and sensual and left them both panting when they pulled apart. He grabbed his hand and led Evan over to where Harry sat.  
“Did you open your present yet?”  
“No, sir.”  
“Sir? What is it with all the sirs? I’m Jericho.”  
Harry looked nervously to his father and Evan gave a small nod. “I didn’t open it yet Jericho. Would you like me to?”  
“Please.”  
Harry did. “Wow. Thank-you… Jericho. It’s very special.”  
“It was my father’s family ring. I want you to have it Harry. I won’t have any children of my own—you are the closet thing I will have to a son.” He turned to Evan. “I was hoping you would consider, Archer, for his middle name. I noticed he still doesn’t have one.”  
“Yes, because him and Ari are obsessed with it being ‘little snake’, or some other nonsense and I refuse.”  
“He knows we keep requesting Nagendra, it means little snake.”  
“Well I know how much your Papa means to you, Harry. I don’t want to take that from you.”  
“Nagendra isn’t an option,” Evan piped up.  
“What about both?” Harry suggested, ignoring his father’s protests. “I would be honoured to carry your surname Jericho, if Father will allow it that is.”  
They both stared at him with hopeful eyes.  
“Oh no…now I’m the bad guy if I say no?”

No one answered that, but yes it was implied.  
“It doesn’t just mean little snake, it means God of the snakes. Do you really want to be God of the Snakes, child? If your Papa really insists on a snake name, how about the Irish word: Nathair? It means serpent.”  
Harry at least attempted to hide his sour look. Jericho didn’t and told him, “Nagendra’s cooler.”  
“Alright, alright. You may be Harry Archer Nagendra Rosier legally, but I refuse to acknowledge it at any other time.”  
“Yes, sir.” Harry had to stifle his laugh.  
“Besides it’s not like I am unaware that Pharaoh calls you that in the other language you two speak already. I suppose it was only a matter of time.”  
They visited some more after that. Jericho had spent some of Harry’s formative years with him and he’d been missed dearly. In the end it was Harry who kicked them upstairs saying he would find a book from Jericho’s study.  
“He’s a fine boy, Evan. You’ve done an excellent job,” he said closing the door and getting straight to work on Evan’s clothing. Evan did the same.  
“I really thought you would stop waiting for me, Jericho. You should have by now.”  
“Are you trying to tell me what to do, my Evan?”  
He shook his head. “I’m still…”  
“You will always be, my Evan.”


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I figure if I keep the chapters shorter I can put them out faster and catch more of my mistakes. I am self editing, and doing it quickly, so there may be a few things... Sorry bout that. Enjoy!

The next day marked day four, which meant the Dark Lord had been without his family for three days. Evan expected a visit.   
Harry hid the gift he’d been given from Jericho. There was no way he’d be allowed to keep it if Pharaoh knew it was from one of Evan’s many lovers. His father had still not sworn fidelity to his Papa, but his Papa expected it all the same.   
Ari was there when they came down for breakfast that morning. He looked bizarre, sitting normal as you please, spreading jam onto an English muffin. “Good Morning, my little family. I’ve missed you everyday.”   
Evan walked over to greet Ari and Ari pulled him into a kiss. “Did you sleep well, my love?”  
“Did someone put Prozac in your coffee?” Evan asked.   
“Prozac?”  
“It’s a Muggle drug, Pharaoh. He’s wondering why you’re so pleasant this morning,” Harry smiled.   
“Well, because I get to see the two of you. The Manor isn’t the same without you. Evan—may I greet Harry?”  
Evan nodded and Pharaoh held his arms out for Harry to come to them. “I’ve missed you my little snake. Have you been good for your father?”  
“Yes, Pharaoh.”  
“And I hear you have a friend?”  
“Yes. Draco, but Father refuses to call him anything but ‘that Malfoy boy’.”   
Speaking of, the Malfoy’s, either they’d already eaten, or had not come down yet, or…   
“I sent them away,” Pharaoh said when Harry looked for them. “I wanted to have breakfast alone with the two of you. Dark Lord’s can do that kind of thing—walk into someone’s home and take over. And yes, I imagine your father wouldn’t call him Draco yet. He’s just getting used to the idea of you having a friend—it was all my idea, did he tell you?”  
“It wasn’t all your idea,” Evan denied sitting down. “Harry, take your seat please.”   
Harry kissed Pharaoh on the cheek and hopped down sitting next to Evan.   
Ari chuckled good-naturedly.   
They had a pleasant breakfast together. Everyone was in good moods; Evan even broke the news to Ari about Harry’s name.   
“Archer? I like it. How did you come up with that?”  
“Many of my family were bowman,” Evan lied smoothly. It wasn’t all a lie, his family really had been bowman.   
“And you are allowing Nagendra? After all the time you argued against it?”  
“It’s not like you do not call him that already.”   
“Yes, but it is unlikely for you to give in,” he said suspiciously.   
Oh for the love of… he becomes suspicious over the name he wanted, and not at all over the spontaneously conceived ‘Archer?’  
“I wore him down, Pharaoh,” Harry chimed in. It was likely and sort of true. Evan wanted to give points to Slytherin.   
“Very good my Nagendra,” Ari praised.  
“Oh, no! You can call him that in your ‘snake language,’ I will not suffer it.”   
Ari looked to Harry confused. “He said I may have it legally, only and that he won’t call me something so foolish,” Harry explained.   
“In that case, I will have your name changed immediately—before he changes his mind. It will be easier than it would have, seeing as I rule the world now. I am going to announce you as my son Harry; my Dark Prince. Nagendra is fitting.”   
He smiled big at Evan. “I know that cost you, my Evan,” he began putting a hand over his. “But you have made me very happy, indeed. I shall reward you. What is it you wish?”  
Evan smiled viciously. “More time.”   
“Of course, I should have guessed that. Very well, you shall have it. You may have two more weeks in addition to the three.”   
“Thank-you, my Lord.”   
“Ari. Please Evan—call me Ari. Don’t I deserve that much?”  
Evan shocked the hell out of everyone. “Yes, you do. Ari, then.” 

AB

“Where did you send them, Pharaoh?” Harry asked as the trio strolled through the Malfoy gardens.   
“Do you miss your friend?”  
“A little, but I was mostly just wondering.”   
“They are here. It is a big place that is why you have not seen them. I asked them to avoid the gardens this morning.”   
Pharaoh and Father were hand in hand—a rare sight for Harry. He wasn’t sure what had happened between his father and Jericho last night (other than sex) but whatever it was had made Evan think and that thinking led to Evan allowing Ari to do things far easier than he hand in the past.   
They stopped at a midway point where the Garden veered off into four paths. There was a bench there and Ari gestured for Evan and Harry to sit, he looked nervous.   
“Evan, you know I’m the type of man that takes what he wants. I’ve been forceful with you, arrogant and well a Bastard. I make you put up with me.”   
Evan immediately grew suspicious as to the Dark Lord’s intentions.   
“But my secret heart’s desire is that one day you will choose me. I’ll keep asking until you do, so I ask—Evan may I announce you as my consort at the Winter Solstice Festival? I would prefer to do it with your consent, but either way I will do it.”  
“You would prefer, but you will do it either way?” he asked rhetorically. “You are ridiculous! Why bother asking?”  
“Because I was hoping the time away had brought you to your senses! That is what this is about, isn’t it? This is just your new form of a tantrum.”  
“I am not having a Tantrum!”  
“You took Harry,” he accused. “I thought you’d left me.”   
“Leave? How can I leave? I can’t, but it isn’t enough for you that you have me in your clutches. Nooo! Not for you, Mister Dark Lord—you still want more from me. You want me to agree to my imprisonment! Well I won’t! I won’t agree to being your consort, you’ll have to force me. That is my answer. Is this conversation finished?”  
The Dark Lord nodded, dumbly.   
“Good, I’m going. Come along, Harry.”  
“May I stay with Pharaoh for a bit, Father?”  
“Yes, please do. I hope you knock some sense into him my little Archer.”   
Oh brother, Harry thought, a new way for them to fight over me.  
It didn’t take Ari long to catch on. “Yes, stay with me Nagendra,” Ari smirked as Evan stormed away.   
“Must you do that to him? He’ll be a nightmare for days.”   
“He is very temperamental. I apologize.”   
They both watched Evan leave. “Did you remain to counsel me my little snake?”  
“Wouldn’t dream of it Pharaoh,” he said. “But if you’ll allow it, I would like to share something with you.”   
“Yes?”  
“My father loves you. Deeply.”   
“Has a funny way of showing it,” he muttered.  
“I don’t think he knows he loves you and if he did he wouldn’t know how to show it.”  
Ari looked confused so Harry continued. “Do you think he loves me?”  
“That man lives and breathes for you.”  
“Yet he’s only put words to it recently. If he cares about me as much as you say and he’s carefully hid if from me for so many years, how long do you think it will take him to admit he loved you? To you? To himself?” Harry laughed. “My father still holds the belief that he only loves one person; that he only needs to love one person. The truth is; he loves more than just me and it terrifies him. Love makes one vulnerable. Love is weakness.”  
“You know far more than you let on, young man.”   
Harry said no more; his eyes twinkled in the sun and Ari was grateful.

AB

Ari found Evan in the room he and Harry occupied at Malfoy Manor. He looked a far sight happier than he’d ever seen him. He sauntered up to Evan exuding all his masculinity and captured him in a kiss that defied legends. It took Evan’s breath away; he moaned in spite of himself.   
Ari pulled away. “I’m leaving.”   
That’s when Ari saw it there—the cold shock, the desperation, the ‘you’re not leaving me, leaving me?’, the hurt… Inside he smiled.   
“But you… you only just got here.”   
“Yes, but you are here to have time away. Harry convinced me I should respect that.”   
“He did?”  
“Not in so many words, but the end message was the same. It is what you want, isn’t it?”  
“It is,” Evan said, but Ari thought that maybe he didn’t sound so sure. 

Ari was right. Inside Evan crumbled; he didn’t want Ari to go—they hadn’t even fucked yet, but he wasn’t about to loose face. How dare he play this game with him? Well Evan could play it too and he could play it better.   
“The sooner you leave, the better. I’ve got company coming.”   
“Company?”  
“Company.” He challenged Ari with every nuance in his face daring him to leave now. He implied that ‘company’ could mean male company by the way he said ‘company’ and by the way he pushed his chest out.   
It was too easy. The Dark Lord looked furious. “There will be no ‘company’,” he said framing the word company in air quotes. “You have Lucius to visit with. That’s plenty company.”   
We all know the ‘company’ was fictional. Evan wanted to make the Dark Lord jealous, though only Hades knows why when a jealous Dark Lord at the height of his rage is not something to behold, but something to run from. But Evan decided to push. “You do not own me! I might be your whore, but I am not your husband! And even if I were, you still wouldn’t be able to tell me what company I may keep.”   
Evan was slammed against the wall faster than, well, faster than he expected and Ari’s voice was hot as a blade in his ear. “Allow me to make it plain. If I find out you had any sort of ‘company,’ I will make Harry pay for it in addition to peeling the skin from your back with my whip. I will lock him in a tiny cupboard for an infinite period of time and with only your behaviour to dictate when I let him out.” Ari stepped away releasing Evan violently and waiting ‘till Evan formed his reaction to Ari’s words.   
It was every bit as delicious as Ari imagined it. Evan’s skin became white as porcelain and he looked every bit as fragile too, his eyes gave away what he never did: The cold fear that arrested him whenever there was a threat to Harry—Ari had always noticed it, even if Evan tried to pretend he didn’t worry and he revealed in it: In Evan’s fear… In the control.   
“I know your secrets Evan. All of them—do not make angry.”   
The Dark Lord had taken Evan by surprise, which was a tricky thing to do, he wasn’t willing to push the Dark Lord any further. Ari loved Harry, but he loved controlling Evan more.   
Evan nodded despite knowing Ari could not possibly know all of Evan’s secrets. He would kill Jericho if he knew about him, but it was enough that he knew of Harry’s fear of cupboards—the thing that happened when he was with the Muggles.   
“No. Say it. Say you will obey me.”   
“I will obey you, Master,” Evan said in a tone that suggested he would rather stab out his eyes.   
Ari didn’t care. Ari only cared that he had the upper hand and that his wayward consort knew who he belonged to whether he wanted to admit it or not. “Behave yourself, or the next time I come, it will be to bring you both home.”   
“Yes Lord Ari.”   
As the Dark Lord stormed away, Harry passed by, his Pharaoh didn’t even say good-bye to him. “He won’t do it, Father,” Harry assured him.   
Evan grabbed Harry’s wrist and tugged him along to their bedroom, speaking as he went, “don’t be a fool, child. He would do it and he would enjoy it. Not because he’d want you to suffer, understand? Because of how I would suffer.”


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You are about to see a side of Harry, you will either hate or love. Hopefully you somewhat suspected it. After all, he's bound to be a bit fucked up with how his life has transpired in this AU... Again I apologize for mistakes. I am editing rather quickly to get the chapters out faster.

Evan finally understood the price that he would have to pay to continue his liaisons with anyone, but sex with anyone had really just dwindled down to sex with Ari, or Jericho. When had he become so predictable?  
He couldn’t answer that question, he’d think about it later, there was somewhere he and Harry had to be.   
When they returned in the early hours of the morning and he was getting Harry ready for bed, Harry asked, “why haven’t you told Pharaoh about Draco and I? Have you changed your mind?” Harry didn’t mention the way he meant ‘Draco and I.’ He knew Pharaoh knew they were friends, but obviously they were meant to be more than friends and he knew his father hadn’t told his papa that.   
Evan startled, caught in his own thoughts—and Harry being like a second shadow—he’d performed the tasks of his night almost forgetting Harry was a real, talking boy. He blinked at Harry’s question without an answer to that too. Had he changed his mind? He remembered then he kept forgetting to tell Ari about the boys. Everything seemed to be slipping from his control. He put Harry into bed without answering the question and Harry, used to his father’s indecisiveness, knew better than to ask twice. 

AB  
“You’re going to be mine someday, Draco,” Harry announced. “When my father finally says I can have you.” Draco licked his lips and felt his cock twitch inside the tight cage. He nodded, entranced by the words, each syllable ringing in his ear. He’d never wanted to be owned by anyone, but for some reason the thought of this boy, Harry, owning him, fascinated him.   
“I know,” he added and wondered if Harry knew about the chastity device Draco now wore. It was made of smooth leather, but it hurt sometimes when he was around Harry and he got an erection, it would ache and ache until finally he would be allowed to remove it for the one sweet hour of freedom each day and he could finally relieve himself fantasizing about all the things Harry might do to him.   
Should he show Harry? Show him his commitment? Was he selfish for wanting Harry to know he wanted him so bad, he was willing to lock up his cock for him? It had been a decision made for him, made for both of them, but it was something Draco craved anyway and had he been asked his opinion, he would have consented in a heartbeat.   
Slowly, Draco reached under his robes and unbuckled the belt to his trousers, but a hand stilled him going further. “Take off your robes, Draco.” Harry’s voice was seductive, with an undercurrent of the same hiss of a snake as his Pharaoh’s.   
Draco’s fingers moved to undo his robes, to do Harry’s bidding—in a moment the robe was on the floor, pooled at Draco’s feet and now Harry could see his half unbuckled belt. “Well, then?” Harry left the words hanging in the air, like Draco was supposed to know what to do. And Draco did. He unbuckled his belt the rest of the way, but before he could unzip his trousers, he was stopped again.   
“I’ll take that, please, Draco.”   
Draco’s mouth went dry, but it didn’t stop him from mechanically pulling his belt out of the loops and handing it over to Harry.   
“Thank-you. Proceed.”   
Draco undid his trousers and pushed them down to his knees and just stood there, dumbfounded, silent in his white pants with his black trousers at his knees, Harry holding his belt, folded under his arm, his robes in a pile behind his heels. Harry moved over to him when he was like this and Draco knew not to move—hell—he could scarcely breathe. What would Harry do to him? Could he do what Harry would command? What would happen if he refused?  
Draco’s cock jumped as Harry’s nimble fingers slid under the waistband of his pants making the skin that touched Harry’s skin, prickle with anticipation. He felt cool air brush his groin as Harry pulled them down to sit just under the curve of his arse and his full, heavy balls. The chastity device he wore was now in full view, Harry’s full view. They were not in private at all. In the front of the parlor, anyone could come waltzing by for a view of Draco’s poor, cock, a prisoner tortured and owned by someone other than him and see the vulnerable position he was in, in addition to whatever thing Harry would ask him to do. Because Harry was going to ask him to do something, he could feel it. There was something very powerful about Harry that everybody missed because they were too busy looking at the way Harry submitted to his father, but those people were fools. Draco was not a fool.   
Harry’s hand ghosted over Draco’s caged cock which sent another thrill vibrating through his groin and he had to bite his lip to prevent the whimper from escaping, his cock wanted free. It was trying to grow in its confinements and it hurt.   
“Are you wearing this for me, Draco?”  
Draco was afraid to speak, so he nodded. Harry reached down and squeezed his balls, hard. “Are you wearing this for me, Draco?”   
“Yes…” Draco squeaked.   
“I guess you don’t know what to call me,” he said releasing his balls. “Just Harry will do for now.” Harry did not have the same indecisiveness his father seemed to have over everything. Harry made decisions that were only forestalled by his father finally coming to one of his own. Usually, he was able to manipulate the situation to get what he wanted, but only if it would not hurt his father in the process. Harry loved Evan more than he would ever love anything, even Draco. But Draco was his person—he knew that now.  
“Yes, Harry.”   
Harry smiled liking that very much. It was a soft smile with no malice whatever.   
Draco waited on borrowed breath while Harry stared at him, looking him over like meat from the market, seeing what a cut he’d brought home.   
“Does it hurt to wear that, Draco?”  
“Sometimes.” Draco sensed that he shouldn’t lie to Harry. Ever.   
“When?”  
“When I’m aroused.”  
“Does my father allow you to take it off? Does he allow you to relieve yourself?”  
Draco nodded. “Yes, Harry. Once a day.”   
“I’ll bet you look forward to that.”   
“I do, Harry.”   
“How much do you look forward?”  
“It’s the best part of my day.”  
Harry let those words hang in the air and dread crept up Draco’s neck as he realized what Harry was going to have him do. Harry’s smile changed and it was no longer that of the sweet boy who always listened to his stern father. It was a smile from the Prince of Darkness. “Tonight, when my father takes this off, I want you to lie half-naked on your bed, with your cock aching in agony and I want you to wish you could touch it, but you won’t will you, Draco?”  
Draco wanted to cry. “No, Harry.”   
“No. What you’ll do instead is imagine I’ve got you bent over that couch over there, where anyone could see us, and think what it would feel like for me to spread your legs wide open and pound my cock, mercilessly into your hole. The whole time, your cock will be open to the cool air in your room, but you won’t be able to touch it, you’ll have your hands to either side of your torso, all because it’s what I told you to do.”   
It would be utter agony.  
“Then, once my father replaces this,” he explained brushing his hand over Draco’s leather encased cock again, “you will come find me and ask me to punish you with this.” Harry held up Draco’s belt. “And as I punish you, you will tell me exactly how it felt to miss out on the best part of your day.”   
Draco swallowed his remorse. Harry wasn’t finished.   
“Are you worried someone might come by this room, even now and see you, so indisposed?”  
Draco nodded and barely remembered to respond with a ‘yes, Harry.’  
“We will have to cure you of that, it won’t do for me to have a my very own Draco and have him so embarrassed over what I’m asking him to do that he cannot concentrate on what I’m having him do…” There was an odd note of caring in his voice; at least, Draco hoped that it was caring. It was hard to say with Harry. He was the byproduct of whatever Evan and the Dark Lord had brewing between them and there was bound to be something unpleasant strung up in Harry’s psyche, but Draco hoped he’d retained something of the light Lily and James Potter were rumored to have had. If he even still had any of their DNA. Draco didn’t know what Harry had been through as Evan’s son, but one thing was for certain, some kind of spell had been used on him to make him look like Evan.   
“I want you to grow your hair,” he said out of context as he smoothed a hand through Draco’s short, blonde locks. “And every morning I want you to come down here, to this very room, where anyone could see you, I want you to pull out your caged cock and kneel by the fireplace. You’ll spend thirty minutes in silence and think about the fact that you are growing your hair because I asked you to. Other people can do what they want with their hair, but not you. You will grow it and when it is long, it will be yet another reminder of belonging to me. You will feel the length of it surround you, feel me surround you, and you will think to yourself how you might like to cut your hair, but you aren’t allowed because I said so and equally so, if I told you to cut it, you would at my command. I want you to worry from time to time that someone might walk in and see you, with your pants down and cuckolded cock out for anyone to view, but then you’ll remember that you are doing it for me. You’ll still feel embarrassment, but you’ll suffer it, because you’re doing it for me. Imagine all those things and when the thirty minutes are over then you may start your day. If I find you did not follow my orders, exactly, I will punish you and it won’t be something you’ll like, or can handle well. I’ve studied you these past days Draco, I know how to make you obey me.”   
Draco didn’t doubt for a moment that it was true, he shivered. Harry was probably smarter than them all, but there was one secret that Harry couldn’t possibly know, he couldn’t know because he was too occupied with being in love with his father to see that Draco loved him. Draco would do anything for Harry. Anything. He may not like all the things Harry would make him do, he may not ever feel comfortable, but he would do them. Breathing meant Harry.   
But Draco also knew that Harry liked the game that the game made him happy. It was Draco’s job to make Harry happy, so he would do his best not to let on how much he accepted everything Harry would make him do, Harry could think he was torturing him and sometimes it might even be true—but Draco would never mind and Draco would never deny Harry.   
“I will do my best, Harry.”   
AB

“You were gone again last night, Evan.”   
“It seems you have become proficient at stating the obvious Lucius.” Evan was in no mood; even the trip to the Muggle’s house had not put him in a better mood.   
“You know my meaning.”   
“Yes, yes, Lucius. You will get your precious information. I have not disappointed you so far have I?”  
“You have not, but I wonder if you might like to tell me about your trouble with the Dark Lord?”  
Evan’s anger could be tasted. “Is that the information you wish, Lucius?” It sounded like the threat it was.   
“No. I merely meant to offer an ear.”   
“You’d better hope I do not want your ear.” Evan crossed his arms over the Muggle t-shirt he’d taken from his house on Privet Drive last night, the one with the good-looking Muggle singer on the front.   
“Fine. We are agreed that you do not want to ‘talk,’ I was only trying to be of assistance.”   
“I’ll be the first to let you know when I need your assistance.” Evan didn’t like that Lucius was now privy to the knowledge that he and the Dark Lord had ‘domestic problems,’ but it was the risk he took in coming here in the first place. Evan had known the Dark Lord never cared about privacy and was fine airing their dirty laundry.   
Lucius sighed. “I want to know what you did to the Muggles, the ones who hurt Harry—I know you would never let them get away with what they did to your son.”   
Evan smiled. “Correct.” Evan liked telling that story; it brought back good memories.   
Evan told Lucius how he used the Muggles, but he did not mention that it was around the same time Evan met Jericho, or go into any great detail about Harry’s training. But he remembered it, every second, as he said the words.


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thought I'd mention: In this story I am playing with writing style a bit. Normally, I am a first person active writer, but in this story I experiment with third person passive. Also, I “head jump” on purpose and I allow the narrator to enter the story at will. It is something Jon Fowles and Jon Franzen have done. I realize that I am no Fowles or Franzen, yet, but there is only one-way to get there: Practice. So here I am practicing. I’m sorry if you do not like the style, but I’m having fun with it and I hope you’ll want to continue along for this ride. So you will notice a particular cadence, and sometimes, repetitive syntax—it is done on purpose. I feel like I should remind everyone that I only do quick edits in effort to get the story out faster—I may go back and polish it up later—at the same time this is not an open door to tell me what you would like removed (I am well aware it’s not perfect). It is really damaging to a writer’s muse ;-) Better to tell me what you liked. Focus on the solution not the Problem.  
>  What I am curious to know is: What ship are you on? Are you routing for Jericho, or Ari? Or do you just wish Evan would run away with Harry and never return? Are you looking forward to Harry and Draco? This chapter is fairly Evan and Jericho centric, but not to worry, Ari is back with a vengeance in the next chapter.

When the Dark Lord announced Evan would train Harry like he would one of his submissives, Evan did not yet see the value and he wanted to entomb the Dark Lord as his snake animagius, in a snake-shaped box with holes he could continuously stab mini-harpoons into. Needless to say he was angry. Harry was still a baby by Evan’s standards, at seven and a half, he wasn’t ready for such training.   
Evan didn’t want him to be ready for such training ever.   
“When are you leaving?”  
“What’s the matter? Do you not want me here?”  
“And I thought I was going to have to be more aggressive in my approach…”  
“I know you missed me—see you’re wearing that Muggle shirt I always wear.”   
“It’s my shirt!”   
“I fail to see your point.”   
“Leave.”   
But the Dark Lord wouldn’t leave until he had his fill of Evan. When he did leave, weeks later, Evan was left with the task of deciding where to begin with Harry’s training. Evan watched the boy as he colored a picture. On closer inspection, he realized Harry wasn’t really coloring. “Baby, come see Daddy. What are you doing there?”  
Happy Evan called on him, he brought his book over to Evan to show him, jumping into his lap. Harry was making lines in red crayon on a line drawing of a man in his Prince and Princess coloring book. It looked like he… It looked like he… “Can you tell me about your picture, Baby?”  
Harry nodded. “It’s what I’m going to do when I’m bigger.”   
“What are you going to do when you’re bigger, Harry?”   
“I don’t like what Pharaoh does to you, Daddy. I don’t want to get hurt like that, so I’m going to doing the hurting… like this. This is where I’ll hit him like Pharaoh hits you.”   
“Hit who Harry?”  
“My person—like you’re Pharaoh’s person.”   
Evan looked the picture over again, now that he understood what Harry had been doing to it. The lines were whip marks, he didn’t want to know what Harry would use as a whip, but that’s what they were. Indeed. Harry had learned this from watching what Ari did to him, because Ari made it possible for him to watch, Ari had done this, just like he did everything else horrible. Evan thought over the years of psychiatry it would take to ‘cure’ Harry of all the things he’d seen since Ari had been back, to ‘cure’ all of the things he’d been through with those damn Muggles. Most children, traumatized at such a young age, never recover, even with years of therapy. Such energy, wasted.   
Evan knew in that moment there was only one thing he could do.   
Harness it.   
Harness the weakness that pain could bring and turn it into Harry’s greatest power. Evan would train the boy, alright, train him to be something altogether frightening.   
He would need fodder for the boy and he knew just the fodder…  
AB  
To make this plan come alive, Evan needed to know where they worked, who they associated themselves with and one by one erase them from existence. They being the Muggles of course. It took him little time because Evan was good at the things he did. He left no stone unturned, he oblivated every person that had ever come into contact with Harry’s Ex-Muggle family, so that technically they no longer existed then he entered their home.   
He brought Harry with him and to Evan’s surprise, the boy didn’t shake or look scared. Harry had his Daddy with him, his Daddy wouldn’t let anyone hurt him, Harry was certain.   
“Hello, Muggles,” he said to them and the look on his face was enough to arrest whatever diatribe on ‘freaky magic’ they were about to unleash, on their tongues. He’d watched them long enough to know what they thought of his kind.   
And Harry’s training began.   
Other than the odd bout of accidental magic, including the one Harry’s magic had used to help him escape the Muggles, Harry’s powers had not shown themselves yet, but Evan knew they were there and knew he was powerful. At first Harry watched Evan and Evan had fun—he made the Muggles cry, he made them beg, all of them, especially their chubby little boy who was only Harry’s age. Evan didn’t care that he was just a boy, he wanted the Muggle adults to suffer and if he had to use the Muggle boy to do it, he would.   
Every night he’d torture them, always in the dark and always with Harry close by, watching. When he’d leave, he’d lock them up, all three together in the cupboard Harry had been locked in. It was quite the source of claustrophobia for the three, until they began loosing a lot of weight on account of the little food they received from Evan. The cupboard was still rather small for the three of them. Evan did feed them enough to keep them healthy, it would be inconvenient if they got sick and he needed them around for as long as possible. When they died, they died. Evan couldn’t care one way or the other, it would simply be a pity because then he’d have to find others for Harry to train on, ones who wouldn’t deserve it as much as these Muggles did.   
It happened long before it should have, “Daddy? Can I try?”  
Evan smiled and told him yes.   
AB  
Something else important happened one day—like all happenings happen. Evan was going stir crazy having been holed up at the Manor for too long, torturing the Muggles was fun, but it was no trip to Paris. The Dark Lord had only been to the Manor three times in the passed four months. In that time, Evan had been doing a lot of training with Harry. Aside from the Muggles, Evan had been teaching Harry about Subspace, which would be known as meditation until Harry was older. But he needed a break from it all, even if it was just to grab a cup of coffee somewhere.   
“Come, Harry. We’re going out. I’ll buy you a hot chocolate.”   
“Okay, Daddy.”   
Harry was of course well behaved and followed like Evan’s little duckling when they entered the small Muggle village and followed still when they entered the small café. Both he and Harry were of course outfitted in jeans and t-shirts like the other Muggles. Evan waited in line with his arms crossed and a sour look on his face. Muggles disgusted him, which spoke volumes over how desperate he was to get out of the house and he couldn’t very well go traipsing around Diagon Alley—he was supposed dead, or missing, or something, but in any case he couldn’t be seen.   
None of the other Muggle parents had a handle on their spawn and Evan was proud of Harry. Harry stood silent with one hand gripping Evan’s pants as Evan stood hating everyone around him and yes this was still better than being stuffed in an old house, he just wished he could put silencing charms on the little brats.  
“Daddy, may I come up?”  
They were even irritating his Baby. “Sure, Baby.” He whispered a feather-light charm, Evan didn’t always need a wand, and picked up his son. Harry was still rather small looking from the outside, smaller than he felt; he’d put on weight nicely since Evan had been looking after him, hence the need for the feather-light charm. But Harry’s features were still small, making him appear younger than he was (almost eight), no one would think anything of him picking up his baby—not that he’d care if they did. He bounced Harry as he continued to wait in the long line-up. Harry looked in need of comfort, so he began stroking his hair and rocking him from side to side and hummed him a little lullaby he’d made up for Harry when he’d first brought Harry into his home:   
“Hush my Darling… no need to cry. If anybody hurts you, I’ll stab them in the eye. Close your eyes; you’re safe and well. And if someone dares to threaten you, I’ll send them straight to hell…”  
“That’s an interesting lullaby,” a deep voice said over his shoulder.   
Evan turned to scowl at the man. How dare he interrupt time with his son and to criticize him? The nerve! “I’ll thank-you to keep your comments to your…” When Evan saw what the man looked like, he couldn’t speak.   
He was tall, even taller than the Dark Lord with wider shoulders and legs that looked made from pillars. His hair was dark and shorter than Evan was used to seeing, since most of the pure-blood wizards he associated himself with, grew their hair, full down their backs as a sign of status. This Muggle’s hair reached the nape of his neck—perhaps long by male Muggle standards of this time—but it did not mar any sense of status he might have. Evan wouldn’t doubt that this was the mightiest Muggle of all the Muggles. Two black marble eyes looked at him and were smiling like they’d just discovered sunshine. This man’s smile was like… Well it was like what he felt when he looked at Harry smiling, but perhaps in a slightly different way.   
Evan clutched Harry tighter to him, but unlike all the other times when it was him protecting Harry, this time Harry was protecting him from the force this man projected. It was somewhat similar to when Evan had set eyes on Tom Riddle for the first time—Evan wanted to sink to his knees and bow to the power, to the pure radical energy that quickly consumed him. But since Evan already made that mistake once, he knew not to do it again and he fought with everything in his bones, gripping onto Harry for extra support so he would not bow to this man too.   
The man laughed and a dimple appeared on his right cheek at the corner of his lips. “It wasn’t meant as criticism. I’d just never heard anything like it before. You must love your son very much.” The man was staring at Evan in an odd way. Evan would say the word enchanted, but as far as he knew, he was the only wizard in the place, there was no way this man could be under any sort of enchantment. He certainly had not performed any magic on anyone other than Harry since he’d been here…  
In that same moment, Evan had finally reached the start of the queue and he was still burning at this outrageous, but entirely too-good-looking-for-his-own-good, man.   
“W-what can I get for you, sir?” The coffee Muggle asked him.   
“A triple-shot Americano and a small hot chocolate,” Evan snapped.   
“And a large cappuccino. I’ve got this one,” the large man pushed in front of Evan, slapping some Muggle money down on the counter. And did he just wink at Evan?  
How dare he? Evan was fuming and too angry to move or do anything to stop the man, clearly insane.   
“I owe you… For insulting you,” the man explained.   
The man paid and Evan followed him silently, Harry in his arms, over to the next waiting station. Muggles had the most bizarre way of acquiring coffee. First they waited in line to order just so they could wait in another line to wait for their coffee to be made…   
“Hullo,” Harry said to the man, not having fallen asleep. It shocked Evan almost to death—Harry never spoke to anyone without asking Evan if it was okay first. But the man wasn’t stupid, apparently, he looked to Evan first to see if it was alright—he must have taken the lullaby seriously. To Evan’s even greater shock, Evan nodded, yes he could speak to him.   
“My name’s Archer. Jericho Archer. And you are?”  
“Harry, Rosy.”   
Harry was a strange conundrum of too innocent in some ways and not innocent at all in others. He hadn’t yet given up calling himself Harry Rosy even though he knew quite well that he was Harry Rosier. Evan didn’t correct him. It was better Evan’s real last name didn’t get around, even amongst Muggles. He wondered sometimes if Harry had picked up on this.   
“Nice to meet you Harry, Rosy. Who is this fine looking man you’re with?”  
“It’s my, Daddy. Evan.”   
“Evan.” Jericho looked at Evan searching, trying to find a shred of welcome. If only Jericho knew Evan had already given him more than he gave to anyone—he’d let Jericho speak to his son. He didn’t even really ‘let’ the Dark Lord do so. It was equal parts coercion and Harry’s choice.   
Their drinks were ready and Jericho invited them to sit at a table outside with him. Evan supposed he now owed the man for the coffee. This Muggle probably didn’t even know what a Slytherin was, but Evan still thought it safest not to have any debts owing. He didn’t bother saying thank-you that Evan would agree to sit with him was more than the man deserved.   
Harry sat on his lap and Harry did thank the man for his hot chocolate, which he was happy to drink quietly. Evan sat in silence too having no idea what to say to this man. Evan wasn’t good at conversation that didn’t have to do with nefarious plans.   
Evan took the time to notice that the man had a strange tattoo embossed onto the entirety of his shoulder. It was circular and had odd designs inside. The man had nice arms and he was glad he hadn’t covered them, wearing a black, v-neck vest. He sipped his cappuccino and waited.   
Evan sipped and waited. They were in a conversation face off, both waiting for the other to say something first.  
Evan didn’t speak because he was stubborn. Jericho didn’t speak because he was just happy for the pleasure of sitting near Evan—just like Harry was. Harry liked to sit with his Daddy while he ate, or drank, something he was not permitted to do at home anymore. So the table at the Muggle café radiated with more happiness than it did sour taste and maybe that was why it had worked between the three—the author isn’t sure—but one thing for certain, no one will ever admit to anything real or imagined that took place next.   
So where were we? Oh yes. The three finished their drinks and while they did, something intangible happened.   
“So… Can we do this again sometime?” Jericho asked.  
“Do this again? Do what again? Allow you to drink coffee across from me?”  
“If that’s all you’ll allow me to do…”  
“Of course that’s all you’re allowed to do, because…” Because what? He’d made it clear to Ari many times over that they were not a couple. He was free to date this man if he liked, technically, but despite all that, he knew Ari would be enraged if he ever saw Evan with Jericho.  
“That’s all I’ll do. Until you let me do more,” he winked.   
“Aren’t you presumptuous? How do you know I’m not with someone? I do have a son, I might be married.”   
“No ring,” he said daring to touch Evan’s ‘ring-hand’ and Evan snapped his hand away.   
“Then how do I have a son?”  
“Same way all men have children with another man: Adopted. Though in this case I’m assuming a surrogate was involved—he looks just like you.”   
This man knew the way to his non-existent heart and Evan had to chase away a smile—he liked it when people said his son looked like him, but as he did not venture out often, he seldom was told. “How do you know I’m into men?”  
Jericho looked up from under his eye-lids saying ‘are you really asking that?’ without any words.   
“Fine,” Evan snapped. “It’s pretty clear I’m into men.”  
The pair were silent for a moment… and Harry was too. “So, is that a yes?”  
“Maybe.”   
AB  
Evan never left a man like that. If he liked the look of him, he brought him home, fucked him and told him to get the fuck out. Unless he was a particularly good fuck; those became his submissives. But for some reason Evan left without so much as getting an address from the man. He refused to succumb to Muggle technology—he knew they used those ‘tellyphoney’ things to converse with each other instead of the floo. Ridiculous.   
With Jericho he was afraid—afraid of what stirred every time he looked at the man and it wasn’t just his cock though that had definitely stirred its fair share near Jericho. He decided Jericho was a bad idea and stayed away from the café for two weeks. He would have stayed away forever, but it was Harry that changed his mind, at least that’s what Evan would claim later.   
Harry knelt by his feet and was supposed to be ‘meditating’ when he said, “Daddy? When are we going to see Jericho, again?”  
‘Mediation’ was not a time for talking. Harry knew this and Evan knew he really ought to punish Harry for his disobedience, but he hadn’t been able to work up the courage to do such a thing, yet. Sure, he’d threated Harry with the odd spanking and had even given him a ‘love-tap’ now and again, but Harry was extremely well behaved—more afraid of disappointing his Daddy than anything, especially a spanking. He hadn’t needed to actually use that form of punishment on him, so Evan was quite surprised that Harry had broken form as he had.   
“Harry, Evan Rosy, you know you’re not supposed to talk when you’re meditating.” Evan was not really Harry’s middle name, we know that now, but at the time he didn’t have an official middle name and Evan jumped back and forth on what he’d name Harry.   
“I know, Daddy. I knew if I talked I’d get punished, but I really want to know and I couldn’t wait no more.”  
Evan sighed, “it’s ‘I couldn’t wait anymore,’ you are a pure-blood not a plebian.” Enough of Harry’s blood was changed to make it true that his blood was that of a pureblood wizard. “And I should spank you, but I have a good feeling you would insist on knowing the answer to your question anyway. A spanking would do you no good.”   
Harry smiled. “You’re going to have to spank me someday, Daddy.”   
Evan scrunched his eyes at his child, there was much he didn’t know about Harry, but he would uncover it all. It was exciting—all the darkness that lay inside his son that only he could nurture. “True, but not today. You aren’t going to like it when I do, you know.”   
“I know. So Daddy, when?”   
Evan knew he was referring to Jericho. “When would you like to see him?”  
So that was how they found their way back to the Muggle café. And wouldn’t you know it, Jericho was already there reading the Muggle paper with three drinks in front of him: A triple-shot americano, a hot chocolate and a cappuccino. His drink had not been touched yet; he’d been waiting for them.   
Evan sat without an invitation, “What sorcery is this? How did you know we would come?” He should have taken Harry and apparated straight back out of there, but he didn’t too intrigued with this Muggle that obviously knew some form of Sorcery. Perhaps he wasn’t a Muggle after all…  
“It is the Sorcery of hope,” he said with that damn smug smile of his. “I’ve been here everyday for the past two weeks hoping you’d come back.”   
Evan pretended to be bored by this information, but it fascinated him. In truth, Evan had been daydreaming about him, not that he would ever be admitting to any of this by the way, but he had. He lowered himself to masturbating to fantasies of the tall, dark man. Worse, in every one of these fantasies, Jericho towered over him rather than the other way around. He’d procured himself a lover or two in the weeks since he’d met Jericho, but even that hadn’t satisfied his curiosity. But his fear of what all this meant is what kept him away until Harry’s tiny voice suggested they come back to this café.   
This time round, Evan was prepared. “This is how it’s going be. We will fuck, nothing more. We will do this at your home only. You will not ask me any questions, especially about Harry. Am I understood?”  
“Yes, Evan.”   
Evan did not expect such obedience from this man. But it wasn’t really obedience, Evan knew, he did not say ‘Yes, Evan’ like his submissives in the past would say ‘yes, Evan.’ Evan never had true submission from anyone save Harry. True submission, was a way of displaying worship, which is how Jericho meant it with one large difference: Jericho was not a submissive; he was a dominant. And unlike Ari, Jericho knew the true meaning of that word. He knew that a true dominant worshipped and took care of his submissive, especially when they did not know how to take care of themselves, just as a true submissive took care of his dominant in ways only his submissive could.   
Jericho was aware that Evan, at this point, had no idea how to be a true submissive, or that he wanted to be, or that he could be. The only experience Evan had with someone controlling him was Tom Riddle, or Ari, or the Dark Lord—whatever his name was now, or would be in the future.   
Evan did as always and put up an army of defenses. Jericho wasn’t deterred in the least.   
“I mean it. If you would like to have… liaisons with me, you will obey me and do everything I say without question, or said liaisons will end immediately.”   
“It will be as you wish Evan. Cross my heart.”  
“That’s another thing—there will be no sappy drivel whatever, another cause for… termination.” But no matter what stipulations Evan put on their ‘liaisons,’ Jericho acquiesced. But none of it mattered. When Evan ‘took’ Jericho that same night, he felt he might as well have not stated even one stipulation, because despite all he’d done to construct control, Evan felt like he had no control at all.


	17. Chapter 17

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As before, this has been quickly edited. My apologies. Shouldn’t be too bad though, just a little copy editing type stuffs. Enjoy!

Evan spent two long months and one of Harry’s birthdays without any word from the Dark Lord and for the first time, Evan lost track of time. He spent most of that time fucking Jericho. Evan would have forgotten about the Dark Lord entirely, but Harry would ask about him. “Daddy, when’s Papa going to come, home?”  
That’s when Evan would wonder it too.   
As he loved to do, Ari came waltzing in, early morning, just before dawn. He was in a mood to rival angry Gods. Usually when he’d been gone for this long, he was slightly sentimental—sentimental for Ari of course, he wasn’t now. “Evan! Ev-van! Where in Hades name are you? Get down here!”   
His first thought was that he had to know about Jericho, Ari only ever got mad like this when he was jealous, but Ari didn’t know, well not exactly.   
Evan decided to stay where he was, in bed, with Harry cuddled in beside him. Ari could come fetch him; he was sleeping.   
It didn’t take long for the door to slam open. Ari… Evan forgot how big he was, or had he got bigger in the last two months? His eyes looked redder as they glowed in the dark, the magic crackling around him seemed more powerful. Evan froze. “Evan, send Harry away.”   
“He’s sleeping, Ari. You can’t…”   
“Do you want him to see what I’m about to do to you?”   
Evan didn’t hesitate after that, “Harry, Baby…”   
“Faster, pet.”   
Evan didn’t care how the Dark Lord would beat him for it, he stopped long enough to glare at him, before he picked up his baby and walked him to this bed, his own bed. “Daddy…” Harry whimpered as he put him down.   
“Shhh… Stay asleep, my Harry.” He stroked Harry’s hair, “Daddy will see you in a few hours.”   
When Evan returned, the Dark Lord was pacing and he could see him more clearly now that the light was on; he was covered in blood and his eyes were still as red as the blood covering him.   
“You should have come when I called you Evan. You never come when I call you—you are disobedient and ungrateful!”   
“What are you talking about? Ari, are you drunk?”  
“I am not drunk… I… Evan!” Ari tried to speak, but was distracted. Evan knew exactly how to channel the Dark Lord’s violence; he’d begun to undress. He pulled the white night dress over his head leaving him in his tight, white, pants. His long strawberry-blonde hair fell down his back and he moved his hips purposefully as he walked across the room, but not towards him, he could feel Ari’s eyes on him.   
“Take them off, before I rip them off, Evan.”   
“Oh, these?” Evan slid his fingers under the waistband of his white pants and slowly peeled them down to unleash his hard and throbbing cock: The one that lit up like lightening as soon as he had heard Ari’s voice. Evan hated that his cock was trained to his voice like Pavlov’s dog.   
Ari was like a predator behind him, stalking him, but in plain sight, with Evan knowing he was there, hearing him move and could feel him waiting to strike—it was only a mater of time.   
Evan let his pants drop to the floor. Ari pounced.   
They went crashing to the floor, Ari on top of course, teeth barred. At this point, everything could have turned around, Evan knew exactly how to make sure he would escape this night with the least amount of damage and that’s what he’d planned on until the Dark Lord said, “are you going to be good for me Evan? Will you behave at long last?”  
So instead he said, “I’m not yours.”   
Ari lost it.   
AB

“Who, Evan?”  
“You should not be here, how did you get here?”  
“Who?”  
“Ari.”   
“Who is Ari?”  
Evan could barely move his lips to speak, he didn’t want to speak anymore in fact. Everything hurt, he was pretty sure several of his bones were broken. “Go away.”   
“If you can get up, I’ll go away.”   
“Harry, will help me, I don’t need you.” Evan was on the floor in a heap, still naked. Jericho could see every bruise and mark that littered his battered body.   
“You want Harry to see you like this?”  
“He’s seen me like this plenty.”   
Evan had never seen Jericho angry, until now, he was a match for Ari—if Ari wasn’t the most powerful wizard of all time that is. He held the anger in his skin, in every cell, potential energy waiting to be released. He was rage.   
Harry must have been at the door because Jericho said, “go to your room, Harry.”  
Evan couldn’t see though, he couldn’t move his head, his neck muscles felt strained beyond repair. Evan wanted to ask just who Jericho thought he was telling his son what to do, but Evan was in no condition to do anything but let Jericho pick him up, gently, and place him on his bed where he would soon begin to put Evan back together again. “You listen to me Evan and you listen good, I am going to repair this mess, meaning you then I am taking you and Harry out of here, permanently.”  
With the last ounce of strength Evan had left, he reached up and grabbed the large man by the collar.   
“If you ever say such a thing again, I will kill you with my bare hands.” Evan passed out.   
Jericho looked after Evan for three days and wouldn’t let Harry in the room for the same three days despite all of Evan’s threats. He did allow Harry to show him where some supplies might be, medical supplies that could help Evan. Harry gave him every potion and salve they had that he thought might help.   
“You let my son in here, Jericho, or I’ll cut off your balls and feed them to a hippogriff.”  
“What’s a hippogriff?”  
“Something hideous and scary.”   
“I’ll be sure to give the appropriate response when you turn my balls into feed—I’m not letting him in here.”   
Evan scowled, “my son, now.”   
“No, Evan. He shouldn’t see you like this and I don’t care that he’s seen you like this plenty.”  
“What right do you have to impose these… these restrictions on me?”  
“I don’t have any right, but I’m doing it anyway,” he said quietly. Jericho made Harry stay out of the room for one more day before the two of them ganged up on him. Harry wouldn’t move from outside the door to Evan’s bedroom for any order from Jericho and Jericho wouldn’t threaten him. Evan on the other hand was happy to hand out threats to Jericho and he was getting well enough he could act on them. Harry bounded into the room and directly up onto Evan’s bed snuggling deep into his side.   
Jericho came and stood his massive size over them both. “Do I get an explanation now?”  
“Only if I get an explanation of how you came to be here? You weren’t supposed to know of this place—it’s impossible for you to…”   
“I brought him here, Daddy.”   
“Harry, Rosier…”   
Harry didn’t look afraid though he knew from the look his father’s eyes he’d finally earned his first real punishment.   
“I’m sorry, Daddy, but I couldn’t… You were too badly hurt this time. I was worried I couldn’t fix you.”   
“It’s no excuse for letting anyone know where our home is. Wait a minute, how did you get him here? This place is under a, well you know what it’s under, Harry.”  
“I… I think I apparated, Daddy. I saw how hurt you were and the first I thought of was Jericho, suddenly I was at his house. I grabbed his hand and was back with you.”  
“Are you referring to the Fidelus Charm Evan?” Jericho cut in.  
Broken and beaten or not, Evan whipped his wand out from under his bathrobe. “You are a wizard! You lying sack of Dragon’s…”  
“I am not a wizard,” Jericho cut him off. “But I know you are a wizard, I know of wizards—I know about many things.”   
Evan knew it was true that he wasn’t a wizard, but he was something not quite Muggle. “Then you’re a spy for the order, I’ll kill you!”   
“I am not a spy, Evan.”   
“What are you?”  
Jericho wouldn’t say.   
“Get out then. Get out! Never come back.”   
“Not until you tell me who beat the life out of you.”   
“I know you think you can hunt him down and destroy him, but you can’t so just leave it alone. You’ll only get yourself killed.”   
“It will be worth it.”   
But as much as Evan really did want Jericho to leave, he didn’t want him dead. So he told him. Everything—well as near everything as Evan tells anyone.   
“So Ari is a Dark Lord—the Dark Lord of the Wizarding world and you serve him?”  
“Yes.”   
“And he’s Harry’s Papa, though not by blood, but you’re not in a relationship.”   
“No. We’re not in a relationship. Not exactly.”  
“We fuck,” he added as an afterthought.   
“You fuck him and he thinks it’s okay to beat you because he’s under the impression you belong to him,” Jericho said with a growl under his breath. “I’m going to kill him.”  
“He’ll kill you first.”   
“He can try.”   
Inside that made Evan smile. “Leaving isn’t an option,” he said with eyes that left no room for that smile that warmed him inside.   
“Do you want to be in a relationship with him, Evan?”  
“I… I don’t know. But like I keep telling you, it wouldn’t matter if I didn’t.”  
“I can keep you safe from him… and Harry.”  
Evan didn’t believe it, so he didn’t bother to ask. “Are you saying I have to choose? I told you what this was from the outset. I am not committed to you and I’ll never be!”  
“Calm down, love—you don’t have to choose, ever. This isn’t about me, it’s about you not being tenderized like meat.”   
“I can’t leave and that’s that. And, he can never find out about you—I would prefer you didn’t know about him.” Evan did consider Obliviation, but there were complications associated with that he didn’t want to risk.   
“And don’t call me love,” he added, “I barely know you—you don’t know me.”   
“I know what I need to.”   
Evan now knew without a doubt he’d got in too far with the Dark Lord, and it was all thanks to his ‘predicament’ with Jericho. Much as he protested and told Ari he wasn’t his, much as he always would say so out loud to Ari—Ari owned Evan in a way no other could—by force. And now, Evan’s relationship with Jericho defined Ari’s ownership of him. He wanted to run away way with Jericho. Not for forever, not even for a decade, but the length of time didn’t matter because he couldn’t—Ari wouldn’t allow it.   
AB  
Even though Evan told Jericho numerous times to get out, and meant it, Jericho stayed for several days insisting, “I’ll leave just as soon as this bruise on your face is gone.” He’d say it as he’d dust his thumb over it and Evan would swear Jericho was somehow keeping that bruise around—even his bones had healed by now thanks to skele-gro, but that blasted bruise he seemed so worried about stayed and stayed. And so did Jericho.  
AB  
Ari didn’t return until two weeks later. Evan was completely healed and had succeeded in kicking Jericho out. He had punished Harry for the first time and had introduced him to the small, but nasty, wooden hairbrush applying it quite thoroughly to his bare bottom in the morning and before bed for two days. Harry was still sitting gingerly and Evan assigned him extra ‘meditation’ hours, but Ari didn’t see or notice any of this when he came home. Instead he went straight to Evan.   
“Thank Hades… I thought I’d killed you.”   
“How could you think that? You made me immortal without my consent, or have you forgotten?” Evan said with all the venom he ever had. Ari’s treatment of him did nothing to cool his rage. Evan had long forgotten about being beaten, what he hated was his confinement and being eternally bound to this man that Evan wasn’t even sure he could call a man anymore, perhaps he was a creature…  
Ari glided across the room and pulled Evan to him. “I haven’t forgotten, I was speaking figuratively,” he said like it was some joke. Evan didn’t laugh, but when the Dark Lord kissed him it took his breath away.   
The kiss took a life of its own and it sent both of them smashing into the china cabinet then into the liquor cart and finally into the wall where Ari ripped Evan’s clothes off in no particular order. He simply wanted to get to the skin underneath and get there fast. They were both cut up from bits of glass finding its way into their flesh and bleeding little blood rivers. They didn’t care. Ari undressed too, as he continued to kiss Evan with built up passion from long days spent thinking about where he would ram his cock into Evan when he finally did return home.   
Naked, the pair twisted and kissed and panted away from the wall, only to crash back into it in the next moment. Ari didn’t care if Harry were to walk in and see them and Evan knew he’d sent Harry to meditate in his room and that Harry would see nothing.   
Their naked bodies slapped together, Ari pinned Evan to the wall, Ari devoured his mouth for a long time trading energy, trying to get forever closer, trying to reach inside of Evan and make every crevice of the man his.   
Finally Ari entered Evan’s well prepared arse and fucked him up the wall, over the couch and on the floor of the parlor. Even Evan couldn’t deny missing the way they fucked.   
When it was over, he didn’t stay. He left Evan bleeding on the floor and breathless, this time, Evan wasn’t broken—he was somehow put back together.


	18. Chapter 18

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I promise not to break my promise from the beginning. Harry and Evan will only have a father/son relationship, despite how it may seem at times and despite what you'll learn in this chapter. 
> 
> This chapter is a bit Drarry. 
> 
> Evan and Ari will be back in the next chapter ;-)

“So that is where you go at night, Evan,” Lucius summarized. “To continue Harry’s training with the Muggles.”   
“No, it was training, now we go to make sure they are still alive and for Harry’s pleasure.”   
“Harry’s pleasure?” Lucius raised his eyebrows.   
“Harry likes finding new ways to torture them. He enjoys torture Lucius.”   
“Yes, well.” Lucius was clearly uncomfortable with the news considering he had recently given his only son to… whatever Harry was.   
“The Dark Lord wants me to be his consort,” Evan blurted out.   
Lucius went silent and looked at him funny, “and you’d like my… opinion on the matter?”  
Lucius was afraid to say anything to Evan. The more he learned about Evan and Harry, the more he realized he was finally out of his league.   
Evan turned to glare at him. “Do you have an opinion, Lucius?”  
Lucius thought it sounded a lot more like an accusation than a question, but he knew he should answer.   
“You may call this an opinion, I call it common sense. I think you have to become his consort whether you want to, or not—you don’t have a choice.”  
“I know I don’t have a choice you imbecile, I want to know what you think about it.”  
Lucius paused, “it will be a great honor.”   
“Stop it, Lucius, that’s not what you think—oh why would I expect an honest answer from a boot licker like you?” He screwed his face up at Lucius like he’d sucked on a lemon.   
And suddenly, Lucius didn’t care what would happen to him, there was nothing he hated more than being called a ‘boot licker’—even if it was true, he hated that it was true. “Fine, you want to know what I think? I think no matter how the Dark Lord treats you—you want it. On some level you want to be a good person, but you’re too fucked up now for that ever to happen and giving in to the Dark Lord will confirm whom you really are and that’s what you’re truly afraid of. So do us all a favor, accept who you are and accept his proposal, so at least some of us can live relatively decent lives.”  
Evan adjusted his robes. “Gee Lucius, tell me what you really think.”   
“That’s what you asked for. The truth’s a bitch.”   
“I didn’t need that much truth.” But Evan knew Lucius was right and if the truth wasn’t so true he’d slit his throat with his nails.   
They were silent for a moment as they let their volatile conversation settle. Then without a word, Evan got up and left. 

AB  
Draco lay in the dark. The expected knock came at his door and Draco told Evan to enter. Draco was always nervous when Evan entered, but the process was always the same, so Draco didn’t know why he should be nervous—except he did know why: Evan was terrifying. How Harry could adore him so was unfathomable.   
As he had been instructed, and as he had done every night since the addition of the Chastity belt to his person, Draco lay on the bed, naked from the bottom down, save of course, the chastity device. Draco did not mind the chastity device so much, the end goal would be worth it—he didn’t regret anything he did for Harry—Draco would even endure Evan.   
Evan entered.   
He was a beautiful man on the outside, Draco knew that many men and women—though Evan clearly wasn’t into women—were enchanted with the man, Draco could see why. There was something solid about the man even though he was a slight thing with soft looking hair, an impenetrable fortress—immovable. It was that sort of certainty people flocked to. Not to mention, when Evan did smile—when he looked upon his son—it was arresting. But Draco knew that the kind of smile he would get from the man tonight would be contemptuous, Evan only had special smiles for his son, well mostly. Earlier this morning, Evan had been smiling about something in the same way he smiled at Harry, only this smile was laced with something… else, which is why Draco suspected that—that particular smile was nothing to do with Harry.   
“Good boy, Draco,” Evan said and Draco wanted to stab his pretty green eyes out—if they didn’t look so much like Harry’s and if it wouldn’t hurt Harry so much if he were to do so.   
Draco said nothing, waiting as Evan moved over to the bed and began clinically stripping Draco of the chastity device. But even that small bit of touching, no matter that it was from Evan whom he loathed, his cock still twitched painfully. What Harry had done to him earlier drove him mad and made his cock ache from within its confines. Now his cock was breathing fresh, leather-free air, Draco took a stilted inhale.   
“You have one hour.”   
Evan always said that before he left—it was all he needed to say—by now, Draco knew what he expected. He knew he could polish his knob as many times as he had the energy for in the space of an hour, but by the time that hour was up, he needed to stuff himself back into the leather device in time for Evan to return and lock his dick up for another day—Harry was wrong about that part, or maybe he didn’t know. He thought Evan replaced his cock prison, but Evan didn’t, Draco had to re-imprison himself every night. He was only late in doing so once. Once. He wouldn’t dare be late again.   
Evan, the psychotic prick… but he was talented, at torture if nothing else. Except he was talented at more than torture, by Merlin, the man was formidable in many areas Draco had to admit.   
Enough of that Bastard, it was time to put Evan out of his mind and do as Harry had asked.   
To get started… Hmmm… The couch. Him bent over it, right. How did he get there? Harry ordered it of course… Draco thought about what Harry had said earlier…  
“No. What you’ll do instead is imagine I’ve got you bent over that couch over there, where anyone could see us, and think what it would feel like for me to spread your legs wide open and pound my cock, mercilessly into your hole. The whole time, your cock will be open to the cool air in your room, but you won’t be able to touch it, you’ll have your hands to either side of your torso, all because it’s what I told you to do.”   
Draco didn’t touch his cock, instead he writhed on the bed thinking about how Harry would use him, with clenched hands and bucking hips. This was torture. He would wait all day for this moment and all the while he’d tell himself, ‘it’s just a day, who can’t wait a day to masturbate?”   
But with Harry there… always there… Harry… Merlin…  
He was a bolt of lightening attached to his father’s leash and Draco couldn’t stand it. He could feel Harry’s power, always brewing like thunder below the surface—it wasn’t fair for it to be locked away. It was Harry’s destiny to use his powers to control. Draco wanted to give him that.   
It wasn’t hard for Draco to picture what Harry had told him to—he’d already fantasized that same scene many times over. He knew Harry would humiliate him, he knew Harry would hurt him, he knew he’d get fucked into oblivion and he’d love every minute of all of it, because Harry would be happy and that’s all Draco ever wanted.   
Since he’d already imagined Harry taking him from behind, slamming into him while he bent, naked over the couch in the parlor where anyone could see, many times, he didn’t think that would be the challenge Harry had in mind and he wanted very much to please Harry—so he pictured something else, and he writhed some more and he suffered. Did he suffer…   
And when it was time to put his cock away, he almost couldn’t, because he was so hard. It took a considerable amount of coaxing just to soften it enough to insert into his chastity device. But he did and he presented himself to Evan—every bit as humiliated as he was every night—so it could be locked. Draco wanted to cry as he saw his cock get locked away for another day: Another day of waiting, of wanting Harry, of suffering.   
AB

“Harry? I’ve come to be punished.” Draco knelt before Harry and presented his belt up to him. “Please,” he added to be sure he was doing it right—he’d never belonged to someone before.   
Harry’s head snapped up. They were in Harry and Evan’s bedroom, in the Manor. The smile on Harry’s face was like Evan’s, not quite the one Evan gave Harry, but not quite the one filled with contempt either. Draco didn’t know what to make of if, but he did feel a little shiver of terror. “Draco, hi.”  
He stood up from where he sat on the bed and snatched the belt up. Draco looked at the ground. “Take your robes off, Draco. Trousers then pants,” he said in a voice Draco had never heard before. It was filled with unbreakable resolution.   
Draco trembled slightly as he stood and began to undress. The long hair of his fringe fell into his eyes, his muscles flexed, tight, as he carefully took off his robes, pulled off his trousers and placed them on the bed. He reached his fingers to the elastic waistband of his pants and heard Harry take a sharp inhale. “Wait.”   
Draco froze.   
“Second thought, I’ll do that.”   
Draco exhaled.   
So there Draco stood in his pants and the shirt he wore under his robes waiting for whatever Harry would ask him to do.   
Harry circled him, running his hand over his imprisoned crotch. “You are nice to look at Draco, I am pleased.”   
A blush crept into Draco’s cheeks. Draco knew he had a nice body, he was broad with thick muscles, he was bigger than Harry both in height and size. Harry took a hand and dragged it through Draco’s hair, tousling the perfectly, gelled strands, molding him how he wanted him.   
“My father has chosen you for me. It took me a while to figure this out, but this is the truth. I don’t have to like you Draco, my father wouldn’t care whether I did or not, he chose you because of who your family is, it’s a good match—‘like’ isn’t a factor.  
“But I find I do like you, very much, very much indeed.” This time Harry’s smile held something more. “I’ve been looking forward to this all day.”   
Draco bit his lip.   
“Were you a good boy, Draco?”  
Draco wasn’t a shy boy, he had all the confidence in the world, always had and now, growing into a man, he could walk into any room and own it. But somehow around Harry, all that shriveled away and he found it hard to speak.   
“Yes, Harry.”   
“You didn’t touch your cock? Just like I asked?”  
“I didn’t touch it, I didn’t cum.”   
“Good then. Grab onto that post, Draco, I’d hold it tight if I were you.”   
Draco didn’t say anything—what does one say to something like that anyway? Nothing. He turned his large frame and circled the closest bedpost with his arms, he gripped it tight like Harry had said.   
“If you were such a good boy Draco, why is it I have to punish you?”  
Draco knew the answer to that. “Because you want to.”   
He couldn’t see Harry’s smile grow, but he knew it did. “Again, you please me. Tell me, did you do the other thing I asked, did you use the image I gave you?” Harry let the belt fly and meet Draco’s back, he’d used his full strength and no matter how much Draco had resolved to remain silent he cried out—it had surprised him and it bloody well hurt even through his shirt, which had been sliced clean through by his own belt. It had only been one lash, but it said everything, it told Draco exactly how much mercy Harry had. Draco wished he’d obeyed Harry to the letter.   
“No, Harry.”   
Harry froze. “That is unfortunate, Draco.”  
Draco knew he should say something before Harry moved again. “Let me explain, please.” It was a cry and a plea, but Harry didn’t care and Draco could feel the heat building. It was Harry’s magic, Harry had to tamp down on it, prevent it from releasing and wrecking havoc—Harry did this often, Draco knew.   
“I doubt any explanation would be sufficient for disobeying me. I shall teach you Draco, not to worry.” Harry began his work on Draco’s back. He sliced through his shirt with the belt like it was butter, Harry’s arm packed more punch than one would think looking at him; Draco was in agony and he’d barely just begun, he held tighter to the bed post. It never occurred to Draco to run, he just stood on legs that were getting shakier and took what Harry gave to him.   
Finally when Draco was crying and he had no shirt left to speak of, Harry stopped. He came up behind Draco and pressed himself into Draco’s bleeding, throbbing back. Draco cried out again. “Please, Harry. Please let me… let me tell you.”   
Harry answered by pulling Draco’s pants down around his arse, so they sat just under where cheek met thigh. “No… please.” Draco didn’t know if he could take anymore. He was already shaking uncontrollably; his skin quivered.  
“Okay. Tell me why you disobeyed, I am curious. I’m still going to finish your punishment, which as I’m sure you’ve guessed by now, is far worse than it was meant to be due to your belligerence.”   
Draco knew. “I wanted to make you proud, Harry.”   
“You make me proud with your obedience.”   
“Yeah… I get that now, Harry, please, just let me tell you. I think you’ll like it.”   
The way Draco spoke intrigued Harry. He hadn’t expected him to be so familiar. Harry was finding Draco more intriguing by the second, actually, he had to reach out and touch him, lightly running his fingers through Draco’s blood. Draco took a ragged breath.   
“Proceed.”   
“I fantasize about you all the time… I’d already pictured you… t-t-taking me from behind on that couch, many times. It would have been too easy not to cum. N-n-not that the thought doesn’t still turn me on, it would just be… easier. I wanted to make you proud, prove I’m worthy of you Harry, so I fantasized about something…” He took another full breath. “Well, it was almost impossible not to cum.”   
Harry stood with his arms crossed behind Draco—Draco couldn’t see this of course, but if he could, he would see that Harry was impressed, even if Harry thought he should have been madder. “So what you’re telling me is that your fantasy was better than the one I provided for you?”  
Draco turned his head and gave him a cheeky smile, “yes, Harry.”   
Harry arched his brow. “We shall see.” The belt came down on his arse cheeks, Draco hugged the post, “continue.”   
“I was lying on my stomach, my cock was trapped beneath me…”   
Harry lashed him again, Draco screamed.  
“Not impressed yet,” Harry said.   
“My hands and feet were tied above me—my wrists chained to my ankles. I couldn’t move, my shoulders ached from the strain only shadowed by the ache in my cock,” Draco got out in a rush trying to avoid another lash, but it was not to be. Harry was enjoying himself.  
“Still.” Lash. “Not.” Lash. “Impressed.”   
“Ahhhh…” Draco screamed. “Please, Harry.”   
“Continue.”   
“Show me your ass, that’s what you said. Show me your hole, Draco.”   
Harry smoothed his hand over Draco’s red ass. “That’s my favorite part about you. I find I like it better red though, it’s going to be red a lot. Go on.”   
“I was scared because I knew you were going to hurt me, but I showed it to you anyway, I opened my arse wide,” Draco said trembling.  
Harry was behind him, pressed up against him. “What did I do then Draco?”  
“You spanked me, hard, until I cried.”   
Harry stepped away from him. “And how did you feel while you were thinking about all this Draco? Knowing your cock was there, available for you to stroke, but not being allowed?”  
“It hurt. I wanted to touch my cock, so bad—I almost did. The only thing that stopped me was knowing it was your wish for me not to.”   
Harry grabbed his hair and pulled his head back. “Yet, you couldn’t follow all my instructions.” He released his head. “Lucky for you I am amused by your story, continue.”   
Draco smiled. “When my arse was a shade of red that was to your liking, you used something slippery and began to slide your finger into my hole and you kept saying, ‘show me your hole Draco,’ every time I’d close my arse to you and you’d spank me, hard. My cock was aching, I wanted to touch it, so bad and bring myself to completion, I could feel the cum leaking out of my cock, but I held it back and thought about what else you’d do.”   
“Oh?”   
“The rope that held me in place was on a pulley, you used it to hoist me up, making the pain in my shoulders worse, my arse throbbed, the skin of my cock was bursting—I was uncomfortable, Harry, so uncomfortable.”   
“But this turned you on?”  
“Indeed.” Draco still faced the bedpost. The lash came without warning. Six times.   
“What next?”  
It was getting harder for Draco to speak. “Y-y-you hoisted me until my arse was level with your hips, you slid your cock into me and you fucked me, and fucked me and fucked me.”   
“Very good Draco. I like it—but you still must learn to obey my every word: Obedience is the most important thing.” It is what Harry had been taught by his father; he lived by it. Harry continued Draco’s lashing until the cheeks of his arse matched the skin on his back. Finally Harry dropped the belt.   
Draco hurt everywhere, he felt wetness down to his calves now—he was a bloody, trembling mess. Didn’t matter. With words that were barely more than a breath, Draco said, “D-d-on’t y-you want to hear the rest of my fantasy, Harry?”  
“The rest?”  
“The rest.” Somehow, Draco managed a smile.   
“Very well, what is the rest?”  
What Draco was about to do was risky, but in for a penny, in for a pound they say. It didn’t matter much at this point. Harry would hurt him no matter what he did, or didn’t do. Besides, Draco was pretty sure he had this one right. He’d been watching the pair—mostly Harry, but also Evan. From Evan’s side of things, he was certain there was no other kinds of ‘non-fatherly’ affection lurking, but Harry was another story.   
Clearly, their relationship was peculiar, and that was being euphemistic, but Draco had noticed Harry’s adoration for his father was more than just what a son usually had for his father. Evan was his savior, yes—there was much of that kind of affection in his eyes, but Harry loved Evan. Loved him. And somehow, Evan hadn’t the faintest clue. Never-the-less, Draco was certain that Evan did not feel this kind of love for Harry. It was that smile he’d had earlier, that was what sealed the deal for Draco. Whoever that smile had been about, it wasn’t about Harry—it was different than the pure happiness that was his smile when he looked at his son, it was love with passion.   
He could sense Harry knew his father didn’t love him that way and never would, but who can help whom they love? Who they’re attracted to? It made little difference to Harry that his affections would not be returned.   
And so, Draco knew just the fantasy that would turn both Harry and him on; he could see it happening. Still, it was risky—he would be unveiling what he knew and with that, how perceptive he truly was, but he wanted Harry to know he knew and to know that it didn’t bother Draco in the least.   
“Your father came into the room Harry.”   
“While we were fucking?”  
Draco nodded, he heard Harry’s breath catch in his throat, and all at once, Draco had snared Harry on his hook. It was Draco’s plan all along, see. He was willing to pledge everything to Harry, give his own form of unencumbered devotion, but he wanted a piece of Harry’s admiration too and did not want to become just that ‘Malfoy-boy-toy’ Harry would be contracted to marry, he was so much more and he would not be wasted no matter how he loved Harry. He wanted to interest Harry and he knew the way to go about it: “You told me, Draco, suck my father’s cock.”   
“Did I now?”  
“Yes.” Draco knew from Harry’s tone, he had to make something else clear. “But I didn’t want to.”   
“You didn’t?”  
“No. I’m not attracted to your father in the least. I wanted your cock, but you wouldn’t give it to me, said I hadn’t earned it yet and if I did a good job with your father’s cock, I might get to suck yours.” Draco did not say these words in the pathetic way one might imagine; he said them with all the certainty in the world, a man sure of himself in the way that Ari was sure of himself.   
“And I wanted that so much, so I did a really good job Harry, hating it and humiliated by it the whole time.”  
Harry’s breath hitched—  
“I got down on my knees and spread his robes apart, he wasn’t wearing anything underneath and his cock was hard, but not for me—he looked at me with disdain. He was only doing this for you.” He did not add that Evan was not hard for his son—he couldn’t picture it happening that way. It doesn’t take much for a man to get hard; however.   
Harry moaned and moved behind Draco, reaching his mouth up to suck his ear.   
“I looked at you, begging you with my eyes not to make me do it, but you said ‘get to work on that’ so I sucked your father’s cock down.”   
“More…” Harry breathed hot, excited.   
“I sucked him in and out, in and out, swirling my tongue around the head of his cock. I wanted to do a good job, you were watching me that was what drove me forward.”   
“Yesss…”   
“He’s still a man, so despite his hating me so, he liked what I was doing, he grabbed onto the back of my head threading my hair through his fingers and began shoving his cock down my mouth over and over, ‘till I gagged… at least, ‘till he thought I’d gag, but I’m no slouch at sucking cock. I’m very… very… good.”   
“Oh, Merlin… Draco…” Harry’s hips bucked into his raw skin and Draco was thankful for it. His poor cock was all caged up and fighting to get out, the pain replaced his agony with a new kind.   
“He fucked my mouth, until he was coming down my throat, but it was messy Harry… I tried to swallow all his cum, it was too much and it ended up leaking from my mouth, down my chin and neck.”   
Harry, with power that seemed unnatural for his frame, spun Draco around, so they were face to face, a crazed look in his eye, his cock pressing into Draco’s thigh. “And? What happened then?”  
“Your father left the room and when he did, you walked up to me, you kissed me, and cleaned all his cum off my lips.”   
Harry bucked hard into Draco’s thigh, cumming hard, with a long moan then everything went silent. Draco didn’t move, Harry grabbed his chin in one strong hand—Draco could feel the magic reverberating there, and brought his lips close to Draco’s lips. “I think… I think I love you, Draco.”


	19. Chapter 19

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some Harry and Evan for you. Sums up their messed relationship in an oddly sweet yet scary way. Hope you like. Please review!

“A chroì, come here. Why are you crying?”

Harry went easily to his father’s arms and cried, really cried. Draco had left some time ago. Harry had taken proper care of him, as his Pharaoh should have his father all those times he was beaten. He’d put special salve over the wounds with care and packaged him up securing cloth bandages around his torso and upper thighs crossing the white cloth diagonally up his arse. He had offered to heal Draco, Harry knew he could; he held great power within that small body of his, but Draco had said, “please. May I keep them?”

Harry was puzzled by this. His father had never asked Pharaoh if he could keep his wounds then again, his father was never given the choice—Pharaoh wanted him to be marked his and to suffer. When Draco had asked that, many things broke inside Harry, or perhaps it’s more accurate to say that the things inside Harry that were broken finally woke up to the realization that they were in fact, broken. 

Completely puzzled, unsure what to do, he left them. Draco thanked him, and walked gingerly away. 

Harry cried over that for sometime then, the reasons for his crying had shifted to other things and he knew he had to tell his father everything to be cleansed of these things. His father was the only one who could do that for him, who understood what lived inside Harry... 

That was what he had thought, until today—today Draco had shown him that maybe someone else could understand him too. It was confunding. Harry didn’t quite know if he could trust Draco, but he had little choice—Draco had figured something out about him that his father would never… His father did not understand love the way Harry did and even if his father was on the edges of figuring out some things about love, he would always miss it. The ‘it’ being how Harry loved his father, or more succinctly: The many ways Harry loved his father and savior. If his father never asked, Harry never had to tell. 

It was the only borderline secret between them that Harry never felt was a secret at all. If his father knew what love was the way most people did, it was there, right before his eyes to pluck up and know. Harry did not make it that secret. He only tried to make that one little way he loved his father (the one that maybe wasn’t in a way a father and son were meant to love each other) secret from everyone else. Harry and Evan had plenty of secrets from everyone else.

And why should it matter? Harry reasoned that yes, Evan was his father in every way a father could be, even by blood thanks to the ritual Evan had preformed, but Harry didn’t think it should matter. Their relationship was already much different when compared to other fathers and sons, they kept to themselves not going into public often, no one had to be offended by what Harry wished his father would do to him. 

That was one side of the coin Harry would contemplate sometimes when he did contemplate the subject, which wasn’t often. The other side of the coin, which was more prominent in his mind, was that Harry was certain that if Evan ever could grasp love in the way most people did, there were two other people that had Evan’s heart in the way Harry wished he did. And because he loved his father that much, he never wanted to get in the way of his father’s true happiness—to be loved passionately by another man the way another man should, even if Harry had to remain in the category of ‘son.’ 

Harry would do it forever, all the while remaining utterly devoted to him. He knew he had his father’s love and he was content with that… he was just… always open to the other if his father ever changed his mind. He wouldn’t though, so Harry kept the door to that reality closed the majority of the time. But Draco had opened it today. Not only did he open it, he’d accepted it and Harry knew in that moment he had found the one for him. 

This presented new problems. The devotion to his father was unbreakable—he would never allow his father to leave him and his father would never allow Harry to leave him. So how would it all work? How did he remain loyal to his father and love Draco at the same time?

He’d gone ahead with the things he had done without speaking to his father about it—something he rarely did. Why? He still wasn’t sure, but now that it was done, he felt terrible about going behind his father’s back like that and that was what he finally settled on crying over and when his father found him—he hoped his father would punish him severely so he could erase this indiscretion from the record. 

“I did something Father, I must be punished,” Harry decided out loud. 

Evan froze for the quickest of moments then he resumed stroking his child’s hair and soothing him. “Tell Daddy Harry, Daddy decides what you are to be punished for. Isn’t that right?” 

Sure, Harry now was to refer to him as ‘Father,’ but Evan would always be Harry’s ‘Daddy’ at the end of the day. 

“I did something terrible, Father. I beat Draco with a belt. His own belt.” 

That was cause for another pause from Evan. Evan knew what Harry was capable of—hell—Evan had taught Harry most of what Harry currently knew, with some of his knowledge coming from the what he’d witnessed between Ari and himself. Somehow it was different than when Harry had been instructed to do things by Evan—Evan could blame himself for what he made Harry do. And Evan wasn’t delusional, a great deal of the blame for Harry beating Draco still lied with him, but hearing that Harry had decided for himself and wanted to beat Draco… It was disturbing even to Evan, which said a lot. 

Evan also knew something else. Harry was not crying because he beat Draco with his own belt that would not bother Harry in the slightest. 

“Are you worried that you did not have my permission A Chroì?”

Harry nodded with sad eyes that reminded Evan of when Harry was a little boy—it broke Evan’s non-existent heart. “Well, worry no longer. You may do whatever you like to the Malfoy-boy, anything.”

“Anything? But father, I thought you made him wear a chastity device to prevent us from having sex?” 

Evan smiled. “Is that what you thought? No, no Baby. It is what I told Lucius, yes, but what I’m really preventing is the Malfoy-boy having sex, I want him pure this moment on for you—you may have sex with him if you like. I told him, his cock would belong to me until you are ready to take possession of him. I see you are ready much sooner than I had anticipated—I had wanted to train Draco myself, but you are more than capable from the sounds of it.” 

“I can… I can have Draco, Father?”

“Of course, Baby. You may have anything you want.” 

“Anything I want?”

“Anything.” 

“I want you to train him sometimes. He does not like you Father—I would enjoy watching his discomfort.” Harry very much wanted to see Draco’s fantasy come true. It would make everyone happy. Harry knew Draco would enjoy it, every bit as much as he would hate it. Harry also learned today how much he enjoyed Draco’s discomfort. “I also enjoy watching you train people, Father. You’re the best at it, you know. Better than Pharaoh.” 

“You shall have it a chroì.” 

Harry’s face lit up. “There’s one more thing I want, Father; something I want to do to Draco and I want to make sure I do it, just right.” 

“What is it, child?”

“I want you to punish me in the way I don’t like.”

Evan didn’t quite know what to say. “Why can’t I just show you, on the Muggle boy?”

“I have a few reasons Father. I know you have now consented to Draco and I that you’ve given him to me as mine, but I still disobeyed you and it troubles me. I want to earn your forgiveness. It’s the only way.” 

“Very, well. What are the other reasons?”

“Because I want to repeat it for Draco, I want to learn and make sure I do it the right way.” 

Harry wanted his father’s approval. 

Deep down. Deep, deep, deep down, both of them knew the things they did weren’t normal. Evan and Harry were as ‘not normal’ as people got. They both knew this, but their continual conversations over it, the continued acts, the repetition, the praise—all of it made it very normal indeed. And the idea of ‘not normal’ need never cross their minds. But it was this part of Harry along with the part of him that had been unloved as an infant that sought this approval. That it wasn’t just okay, but desired. 

“Of course. I shall teach you then. And I am glad you want to make it up to me, Harry. That makes me very proud of you. Alright then undress and lie with your legs hanging off the bed—face up.” 

Harry began to undress. “There is one more reason Father, but I don’t know how to articulate it. I think I will when it is done. May I tell you then?”

That bit worried Evan, but only because he didn’t know what Harry would be asking and it could be any number of things—fucked up things; after all, Harry had watched Ari pound his cock into him, in all kinds of creatively fucked up ways since he was a small boy. He wasn’t sure exactly what that did to a child—he knew some now, of course, but he learned a new thing each day. 

But Evan needn’t have worried. 

Evan knew Harry was asking for his trust, so Evan decided to do just that. “You may tell me after, but you will tell me after.” 

“Yes, Father.” Harry was finished undressing. He was completely naked now, his long, Evan-like hair the only thing to cover him, but he didn’t want to cover himself, so he threw the hair back over his shoulders. 

“On the bed, now, Harry.” 

Harry lay on the bed, fear and excitement coiled in his belly. He loathed this punishment, which is why his Father saved it for horrible grievances, nothing felt like this punishment did. Nothing would leave lasting pain like this punishment did. And no other punishment would leave Harry feeling like he had truly earned forgiveness for disobeying his father. It didn’t matter that his father had been hesitant, Harry knew they would both feel better after this. Knew it. 

Evan pulled out the long wooden implement that was like a wooden spoon, Harry spread his legs the right amount, he was well practiced. His father was going easy on him, it would still hurt, but less than with the single-tail. 

Evan put the wooden spoon on his mark: The inside of Harry’s thigh, just to the right of his cock. Tap. Tap. Tap. Whack! “Ah.” Much as Harry always tried with this particular punishment, he couldn’t hold back his cries. 

It was only the second whack coming up, but Harry’s skin shivered with dreaded anticipation, he breathed sharp ragged breaths and wondered if Draco would be able to stand it? Tap. Tap. Tap. Whack! “Ahh.” 

“Come on, Harry. You can do better than that.” Once Evan began, the sickness took over and he wouldn’t stop until he was finished. 

“Yes, Father.” Tap. Tap. Whack! He winced that time, but no cry. It bloody stung. He imagined doing it to Draco—the face he’d make, the cries he’d make. He’d let Draco cry out, the first time he did it… the cries would be sweet…

Tap. Tap. Tap. Whack! The whacks kept coming, sharp, painful—sometimes in a different place, sometimes in the same place, but always inner thigh. Some came very, very close—too close—to his tender balls. “You’d better stay still, if you don’t want that to get hit.” 

He was referring to Harry’s cock. 

Harry’s hands dug into the bed sheets, he would stay still. He did not want that to happen—it had happened once and well, he didn’t want it to happen again. Of course, this only left him wondering if he would accidently hit Draco’s cock and how would he scream?

“Why are you hard?” 

The question was sudden, Harry jumped. 

“I am picturing how much Draco will like this.” That bothered Evan in a way he couldn’t name. It was worse than if he had said what Evan thought he would say: Because he liked pain. 

Harry liked pain in a different way. Evan knew this, he did, it was another one of those deep down things. Evan knew he was more like his Papa than Evan would like to admit regarding pain, but know it he did, planned plans around that little deep down fact. But watching Harry get hard and knowing why—he wished he hadn’t asked, so he didn’t have to hear it. 

Then Evan lost it. 

He beat Harry’s thighs with the wooden spoon until Harry couldn’t hold still anymore, Evan wanted that more than anything, he wanted Harry to know how it could hurt—if that’s what he wanted to do to people. And if that was Harry’s wish, Evan wanted that for Harry, it was better in some ways than having it be Harry as the one getting beat like that, like Ari beat Evan. Still, Harry should know. 

Know what ‘helpless to do anything towards your aggressor’ felt like and what real pain was, broken pain. Evan had punished Harry many times and it had hurt—left marks—but Evan never beat Harry into oblivion. Maybe he should start. 

Harry was doing well, crying out, tears in his eyes, can’t hold still, but not begging Evan to stop—not good enough—Harry needed to beg. 

“Spread your legs wider, Harry.” Harry did, but Evan noticed the smallest millisecond of hesitation: The one that told Evan even Harry wasn’t sure the territory they’d entered that there was some fear. Evan found new places to leave more marks, more sensitive places—Harry’s thighs would be bruised, but he still didn’t beg. Course not. Harry was strong, Evan had taught him to be like that. 

Evan knew everything about Harry though, he could break him if he wanted to, Evan wasn’t planning to go that far, just walk the tight rope of it. “Keep your thigh open like this,” he said moving Harry’s left thigh, just so. It was open, the puffy red marks vulnerable, shaking involuntarily; Evan gripped his ankle. Evan smiled before he laid into that thigh with the wooden spoon and all of his rage. He whacked the same place over and over again until finally, he heard the words he was looking for, small and croaky—Harry had been screaming a while, Evan hadn’t noticed. Which is why, he didn’t have any voice left, yet he still whispered, “please… please… I’m sorry. Please… Stop.” 

Evan woke up; Evan stopped. 

He threw the wooden spoon, it clattered to the ground. He looked at Harry’s thigh to see what he’d done to it—it looked awful, bloody, already bruising where he’d brutally attacked it. Evan only wavered momentarily on what should be done about what he’d done, but he quickly decided to use it as a learning tool for Harry, ever the learning. 

“I hope you’ve learned from this, come to father.” Evan sat on the bed and Harry clamored, desperate to get into his arms. He was crying—Harry seldom cried. “You will obey me, Harry,” he said as he always did after a punishment, even if Harry had initiated this one—he would finish it, properly. 

“Yes, father. Always,” he said in a small voice. “There isn’t anyone else, I promise. I obey you, only you. I’m yours father. Draco is mine, but I am not his. Just yours.” This wasn’t said in the lofty tones Harry normally spoke in. Harry always knew Evan, better than Evan knew Evan, and he had figured out the real reason Evan had lost it, before Evan had figured it out. 

Evan wanted Harry to know the pain, it was true, but why? For compassion? No. Evan did not know compassion. 

Evan wanted control over Harry and he hated the thought that someone might have more influence on Harry’s emotions than he did. He wanted Harry to know the pain—the pain of how Evan would feel if he ever lost control of his son.

But it was inevitable, wasn’t it? Evan was Harry’s father, not his lover, Evan could not possibly control him forever? Could he?

But he could. Harry just told him he could. 

Evan said soothing things to Harry and assured him he’d done very well and that he’d been forgiven and they sat in the silence and Harry cuddled his naked body into his father’s clothed one. Evan wanted to be closer to his son though. He moved Harry off him for a moment—the boy whimpered like he did when he was very little, Evan really had come close to breaking him, it was time to put him back together—Evan undressed down to nothing. 

He pulled Harry under the covers with him and stroked his hair wiping away the last of his tear tracks, it was what they did often, nothing unusual, nothing strange. Harry finally calmed and Evan was pretty sure he had him back, that’s when he heard Harry’s voice, still small, but confident now. 

“May I keep them, Father?”

“Keep them? Keep what?” But Evan figured it out as he said it; the marks, that’s what Harry wanted to keep. “Whatever for, child?” He asked before Harry could even answer his first question. 

“They’re special. They’re from you—they keep you with me when you’re not there.”

It was the right answer. For both of them.


End file.
